Why So Serious?
by EnoKureno
Summary: AU-Bruce Wayne is a spoiled teen who stars in the TV show, Batman. Joker is miserable underclassmen who attends Gotham High. When they are partnered up for Tech Ed, sparks, and fists, will fly. Humor, Violence, Romance, Language. Rated M for safety's sake
1. Meet Brucie, King of the Stage

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I never will own anything like Batman.

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A/N: Hey, everyone, anyone? It's Kureno Sohma, for some reason I'm writing my first "serious" fic. I was inspired by listening to the New World Symphony and Carnival of the Animals. Perfect for this story, depressing and cheerful. If anybody else likes "Fossils" tell me. I'd love to discuss classical music, my friends don't really enjoy it, even though they play orchestra instuments and I'm only a singer. Anyhow, I based most of character looks and personalities off of the movies because I haven't read the comics, yet. But I have seen the Dark Knight 2 times in 3 days. Thanks for reading "Why So Serious"

**Why So Serious?**

_"I'm only laughing on the outside, my smile is just skin deep, if you could see inside, I'm really crying, you might join me for a weep."_ **--The Joker --from Batman (Movie)**

**_3rd Person Omniscient _**

The late bell of Gotham High rang as a single student painfully made his way towards his first class of the year. His name was Jack Oker, but most of his schoolmates called him "The Joker." It wasn't because they found him particularly funny or amusing, it was only because in the Gotham Elementary yearbook, his name was written "J. Oker." Bruce Wayne, an older student, pointed it out, and got people to call Jack that for a short time in 2nd grade.

However, the name didn't stick until 4th grade, when Jack showed up with heavy bandages that later revealed a gruesome smile, viciously cut into his face. When asked by horrified teachers and classmates as to what had happened, he merely said,

"They asked me why I was so serious. I guess I didn't give the right answer." With this reply, that didn't really answer the question, the nickname, "Joker", returned and he was shunned by all his fellow students. Cause and effect, no friends equaled a clinically depressed teen with a twisted sense of humor. A social outcast equaled an abundance of bullying. Bullying equals the reason why Jack was limping to Mr. Fox's class this morning.

School had only just begun and he was already almost down for the count. He gritted his teeth and slowly opened the door, sliding in silently.

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**_Bruce's POV_**

I tapped my pen against my notebook absent-mindedly. Mr. Fox was giving the same lecture I've heard for the past three years in his Tech Ed. class. "Safety glasses at all times, blah blah, restricted internet access, blah blah blah, Mr. Oker, so kind of you to join us at last." Wait, that last part was new. Raising my gaze from my paper, I saw the last person I'd expected to see. The Joker? This is the Junior's Tech class, why is a Sophomore here?

I studied him closely, for lack of anything better to do. Wow, he's nearly as skinny as Anna Ramirez, class slut, and those bags under his eyes, is this guy ill or something? Sighing, I leant back in my chair, and resumed my pen-tapping. Moving on, I'm sure you all want to know about me.

My name is Bruce Wayne, heir to Wayne Enterprises. I'm a 3rd year student at Gotham High, a 4.0 student actually. After school, I drive my Lamborghini to DC Studios, where I star in the TV show, "Batman". It's broadcast nation-wide, so I have fan-girls, and boys, worshipping me everywhere I go. In the show, I'm a teen superhero, battling evil teachers by day and insane villians by night. In fact, tonight I'm supposed to meet Jim Gordon, the director, to discuss the possibility of a recurring supervillian. I think it's ridiculous, Batman obviously kills all of his enemies by the time the episode is over. If he let one escape, he'd fail and might lose some popularity. Oh well, Jim always listens to me, he has to. Oops, bad Brucie, pay attention to Lucius, he helps Jim design new armor and weapons for Batman to use.

As I start focusing, I notice the Joker is glaring at me from the front of the room. And all the other students are glaring at the Joker. What did I miss? Think back, Brucie, think back. I can kind of remember Mr. Fox saying,

"Mr. Oker, I can see you've injured your foot, were you at the nurse's office?"  
The Joker gave a sullen shake of his head. "Then I've got no choice but to mark you tardy. I was hoping you'd be a bit more responsible, seeing as we had to make some very special arrangments to get you into this class. Please keep pushing yourself to succeed, and pass my expectations. We have assigned seats for this semester, you are next to Mr. Wayne. Take your spot, if you would, Mr. Oker."

Oh. So that's why everyone is mad, they all want to sit with me. But, then why is the Joker angry? Why wouldn't he want to be my table mate? Oh well, I don't really care what a little underclassmen thinks. I started to hum my theme song under my breath.  
"Nananananananana, nananananananana, Batman"

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A/N: So that end chapter one, don't say I didn't warn you about Brucie. I loved writing him, I started an just couldn't stop. I modeled Mr. Fox's Tech Ed. class after my own. Feel free to offer suggestions and request. Wow, it's 3 am now. yay. I have work tomorrow. FUCK. Please Review, so I can continue to please my public. -Gives a bow-


	2. Meet the Joker, Penguin Lover?

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High, Richie Gate, and Bartholomew Allens.

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A/N: I was shocked! I woke up at noon and I had 3 reviews! In less then 12 hours! I LOVE YOU ALL!! This is my gift for your reviews, another chapter in less then a day. this chapter is dedicated to Uke Yuki, or my Sachikins! She beta-ed this chapter for me. Luff you!

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**Why So Serious?**  
_"One, two, three, four... Batman can be such a bore! Five, six, seven, eight... help him meet his final fate! Gotcha! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha!"_ **--Joker, New Earth**

**_Joker's POV_**

I had known that there would be repercussions to being late, but I'd never thought I would have to suffer so greatly. Bruce Wayne? Bruce- Fucking- Billionaire- Teen- Star- Wayne? The one person I hate almost as much as the one who gave me my scars? Why, oh ironic twisted fates, why me? I glared at him as I limped up the aisle, slamming my bag onto my half of the table. I sat down and pointedly looked away, taking out my notebook. Mr. Fox, after giving me another stern look, continued with his lecture on teamwork.

"Alright, now that we're all here, I'm going to tell you what we shall do for this month's project. We are going to... intern at Wayne Enterprises. Thank you, Mr. Wayne, for the offer." Half of the class, including me, groaned, the other half, comprised of fangirls, mostly, cheered. That jerk Wayne just puffed up like a proud penguin... where did that analogy come from? After breaking the news, Mr. Fox said, "I have written down the jobs that are available for you and your partners on these slips of paper. Please come down here and get your assignments from the box."

Because of where I was sitting, I was the last person to get a paper slip. Wayne was too lazy to walk to front of the room, so I had to limp painfully down the aisle to Mr. Fox. I grabbed the last piece of paper from the box, and returned to my seat. I chucked the paper at my bastard of a partner. HE can read it and groan about it, but, much to my disappointment, he whooped,

"Yes! We get to help Lucius and Jim make weapons and stuff for Batman! Awesome!" **NOOOOOOOOO**. I'm doomed. Truely, Madly, Deeply Doomed. I hate the show Batman, mostly because of Wayne, but also because no one can be so perfect that they always tie up every loose end in half an hour. He should have one person who always outsmarts him, easy enough to do, one person who doesn't have a plan like Batman always does, but is even more dangerous because of it. I might actually buy a TV if they do create a supervillian like that.

I should at least be taking notes, Mr. Fox is explaining how this month is going to work. This is Advanced Technology Education, so it runs for 2 periods. We will walk over to Wayne Enterprises after the late bell, and stay until 10 minutes before the 3rd period bell. We are welcome to go over after school and during lunch and study hall to work on our respective projects. A Mr. Pennyworth will give us employee ID badges, so we have access to the buildings and labs we are going to work in. He also will be our judge, along with Mr. Fox, to decide which of our projects should win the First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High.

Gee, this sounds like the time of my life, not. I applied for this class because I wanted to learn more about engineering, not Bruce Wayne. If I really have to spend time with him, I might end up blowing the building up. That would be fun. I smile dreamily at the thought of an explosion killing Wayne. I crashed-landed back on Earth as everyone else stood up, ready for their first day of slavery, I mean work, at Wayne Enterprises.

**_

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_****_Bruce's POV_**

The Joker as a partner? Weird. It's not that I hate him or anything, I just... dislike him. Oh well, he did skip up here to Ad. Tech. Ed. He must have some talent in designing and engineering, or Mr. Fox wouldn't take him on as a student. I stood up and stretched slightly, enjoying the feeling of my untightening muscles.

Turning, I saw the Joker had a dreamy expression on his face, with his scars it was kind of creepy, and didn't seem to be getting up. But when I was about to shake him a little, he snapped to attention and jumped up, wincing slightly at the pain in his ankle. I wonder what happened, is the Joker a klutz as well as a freak? It wouldn't surprise me. I quickly strode down the aisle after our class, and joined my best friends, Rachel Dawes and Harvey Dent.

"Hey Bruce." They said, in unison. I hate it when they do that, they're such a lovie-dovie couple that they think it's cute to complete each other's sentences and to say things in unison, little secret, it's not. But I put up with it, becasue they are my friends and they are truely in love.

Rachel and I have been friends since kindergarten, when I stole her crayons and she broke my big toe. Strange, yes, but so are we. She respected my daring and I respected her power and a friendship was born. When I signed onto the Batman show, she did too.

She plays Richie Gate's, Batman's true identity, first love, the lead singer of his favorite band, The Wannabe Russians, named Diana Cross. They met when Batman saved her after a crazed fan kidnapped her from the set of her new music video, Strawberry Dream. The fan's last attack before being vaporized tore his mask off and Diana saw his face. Trusting her with his secret, she learned his real name and even started attending the same school. Rachel's vocals were recently featured on Batman: The Diana Files, a CD that DC released.

Harvey transferred here from Marval Studios to be Batman's partner, The White Knight. I hadn't liked him at first, he was stealing my thunder, dammit, but we finally befriended each other. He and Rachel got together after only 3 months of co-starring together. That was 3 years ago. You can see the strength of their love. Diana and Bartholomew Allens, the White Knight's secret identity, finally started dating, breaking Richie's heart, but making him much more popular.

They held hands all the way over to Wayne Enterprises. When we entered we were met by...

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A/N: I love cliffhangers. They really make people want to continue reading. Please review! Flames are used to toast my favorite food, marshmellows.


	3. Cooties and the Joker's Panties

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High.

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A/N: 5 more reviews. And wow, 86 readers! From China, Finland, Australia, Canada, South Korea, and more! You. Guys. Rock! If you noticed, I attempt to update daily, but I have to balance work, family, friends, and chronic procrastination.

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**Why So Serious?**  
_"As though we were made for each other... Beauty and the Beast. Of course, if anyone else calls you Beast, I'll rip their lungs out."_ **--Joker, Batman (movie)**

**_Joker's POV_**

They were met by... an elderly man and a trumpet quartet. What the hell? Wayne has a smirk on his face, he must have planned this. My ears, they're bleeding, make it stop! Oh thank god, the old guy is starting to talk.

"Welcome to Wayne Enterprises, my name is Alfred Pennyworth. PUT THOSE DAMN HORNS AWAY!! Eh-hem, thank you. I believe you all have received your assignments? May I ask who got the Batman job?"

I slowly, sadly, raised my hand, along with the bastard, I mean, Wayne. "Ah, Master Wayne, a suitable job. Anyways, you two are working at DC studios in Mr. Gordon's labs. So, you will need a ride, Master Wayne, will you give your partner a lift over there every morning? Yes? Good. Here are your passes, if the rest of you would so kind as to follow me, I'd much appreciate it." Wayne said goodbye to his friends and he pulled me out the door.

I. Am. So. Fucked. **SNAFU**. "Mr. Alfred Pennyworth" didn't even ask if I wanted to ride with Bruce Wayne, I have no other way of getting there, but that's beside the point. Now I'm stuck with my second worst enemy in a black Lamborghini, so close I can practically count his eyelashes.

Dear god, I've never prayed to you before. I'll probably never pray to you again. But please, find a way out of this for me. I'm sitting with one of the five people I'll meet in hell. Amen.

**_Bruce's POV_**

Can Can, Can You Do The Can Can, Charming Ultra, Less Is More. I stopped humming when I noticed the murderous look on the Joker's face. What got his panties in a twist? I know we aren't friends, but this is a sports car, he should be worshipping me as a god or something.

"What's wrong with you, Joker? You finally realized how stunningly handsome I am? Jealous?" If looks could kill, I be dead a million and one times over. Yay! He looked away, now if only that feeling of true despair would disappear. I nearly cried with joy when we pulled up at DC, I parked in my "Reserved For Bruce Wayne" parking spot right next to the door.

Uh-oh, there's another mob of fangirls attacking, I mean waiting by, the entrance. I shoved my keys in my coat pocket and sprinted for the door, used to dodging wild fans. Gasping for breath, I leaned against Jim's secretary, Jan Seybold's desk.

"Do you have an ap- Hello Bruce, dear, isn't it a little early for you be here? Don't you have school?" She asked, suspiciously. I nodded, brushing off some Batman confetti and removing a Bruce Wayne keychain, adorably chibi, from my hair.

"Yeah, but my Tech class is interning at Wayne Enterprises. I got the job of helping Jim and Lucius make new stuff for Batman. Alfred told me to drive my partner over here every morning." I gave her my most charming smile, the one I usually reserve for her.

"Partner? What partner?" I spun around, no trace of the Joker.

"Damnit!" I ran back out, where is he? I could see he wasn't in the car, he must be in the jungle of fans. Green hair, Glasgow smile, crazy clothes? He should be easier to spot than most people. Aha! I spy, with my little eye, a brightly colored freak. Pushing past some screaming girls, I grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the door.

Ouch, that was my foot. I love you all, my dearest worshippers, but do not harm me! My body is too god-like for any amount of abuse. Stomp on the Joker's foot if you must! I didn't mean it seriously! With a cry of pain, the Joker was tripped, and, being the perfect gentleman I am, I caught him. I can see it, the entrance is 5 feet away. Carrying my unwilling passenger bridal style, I charged and made it back through the revolving doors of DC Studios.

"That. Was. Horrible." I moaned, returning to Jan's desk. "Didn't we have security guards?" Jan nodded.

"We did, until you fired them for smoking within 10 feet of your car. Now, who is this?" I noticed I still was holding the Joker, and dropped him like a hot potato pancake and jumped away. Ewww, weirdo-cooties. He gave another yelp of agony and Jan looked concerned.

"What wrong, hon? Did those girls do something to you? Not that I hope your injured or something, but it would give us an excuse to ban them from the premises." She and I had dreamy expressions on our faces. No more jungle, no more confetti, no more kidnapping attempts. The Joker shook his head.

"I'm fine, but feel free to ban them. I don't want to have to fight them every day." He shuddered and tried to stand. His ankle twisted under him and the Joker was down. "Maybe I'm not so fine... hehe." He chuckled weakly. Jan stood and knelt beside him.

"Where does it hurt, hon? Your ankle?" She prodded it slightly, yuck, it's purpley and swelly. My new two words. "You might have fractured it, do want to go to the hospital?" The Joker bit his lip and shook his head frantically.

"I hate hospitals."

"At least put some ice on it. Bruce, dear, would you help your friend to a chair, please? Thank you." She scurried off, like a mother hen, leaving me standing awkwardly over the one person who doesn't treat me like the special person I am. What now? Listen to Jan, I guess.

Reaching down, I picked him up like I had before, bridal style. He gave an indignant squeak, a squeak, really now, what kind of freak squeaks? Is he a squealer too? I deposited him in a chair and sat down across from him.

Fish don't fry in the kitchen, beans don't burn on the grill. Took a whole lot of trying, just to get up that hill. Now we're up in the big leagues, getting our turn at bat, as long as we live it's you and me, baby. There ain't nothing wrong with that. I stopped my humming, once again, because of the way the Joker was glaring at me. Why does he insist on ruining my good humor today?

Jan came rushing back with the biggest icepack I'd ever seen. She wrapped it around the Joker's foot and ankle, using duct tape to hold it in place.

"How does that feel, hon? Tight enough?" Seeing his nod, Jan went back to her desk. "Oh yeah, Bruce, dearie? Mr. Gordon is waiting in Room 5." What? How am I supposed to get the Joker down there? I glanced around, I saw my answer sitting underneath a fake palm tree by the front door.

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A/N: There you have, Chapter 3. Jan Seybold is the actress who played Harvey Dent's secretary in The Dark Knight. Her name belongs to... her. Read and Review. -sniffle- You guys are awesome. I couldn't ask for better fans.


	4. Bat Chairs and Jack The Tiger

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Why So Serious?

  


A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High.

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A/N: 142 readers! -swoon- In 4 days! -bow- I'm very sorry I didn't post chapter 4 yesterday like I usually would. I was out with my mother and sister. They wanted to go see how my things did in the county fair. I placed 2nd in both cooking and photography. Yay me. My sister played that fish game, where you toss a ping-pong ball into the fishbowl, you know? She won two fish, and I got one of them. A big silver fish with a green head, gorgeous, I named him The Joker. It's funny, I played that game with Akii on Thursday, neither of us won. The people in front of us won, and the people behind us won also. WHAT DID WE DO WRONG, WE JUST WANTED A DAMN FISH!! A-hem, pardon my outburst, it really is only a small nuisance.

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**Why So Serious?  
**

_"Any man can have one really bad day and end up just like me."_

**--The Joker, from Batman: The Killing Joke**

**_Joker's POV_**

"No." I shook my head firmly. "I refuse."

"Pleaaaaaaaaase." whined Wayne, on his knees, begging me. This looks so wrong, we're getting a lot of weird looks.

"Stand up, idiot. People are staring." I whispered, angrily. Uh-oh, he looks like he has an idea. Most of his thoughts are mean ones, I think I'm in trouble.

"DARLING! How can you say that to me? I thought you loved me." No. Fucking bastard dipped in bastard with bastard filling. He did not just yell that. Please god, why me? I'm almost ready to sob. "I'm a bad boy, I know, but you can't leave me alooooone." Is he.. crying? Damn all of the actors that ever existed. Damn the fates for giving him the ability to cry at will. Now there's only one thing I can do.

"Fine, I'll ride in the fucking wheelchair." My pride destroyed, I looked away from his gloating expression. I can feel my hopelessness setting in.

"I hope you enjoyed that small rehearsal for a play I might try out for. My friend here graciously agreed to help me practice. I think he needs a round of applause." The room filled with the sounds of clapping. That's it? I get a round of applause for being totally embarrassed against my will? And people believed that jerk? That was one of the lamest cover-up stories I'd ever heard!

Wayne rolled the wheelchair over to my chair. I was about to say that I could get out of my chair by myself. But that bastard scooped me up and plunked me in the goddamn chair on wheels before I could open my mouth. I hate them, they remind of bad times. Moving on, where the hell is Room 5? As if he could read my thoughts, Wayne said,

"We're going up to the 3rd floor, okay, it's just up these... stairs..." NOOOOO. I leapt from my seat and began hopping away. Ow. Ow. Ow. "Hey, don't worry about it." With a sense of vertigo, the floor and the ceiling suddenly switched as the bastard picked me up and threw me over his shoulder like a backpack.

"LET. ME. DOWN." I growled, slapping his shoulders as hard as I could. He just grabbed the wheelchair and began climbing the stairs. "I mean it!" I started kicking and scratching whatever I could reach. He pinched the back of my knee, OUCH.

Eventually, we made it to the top of the stairs. "LET ME GO!!" I yelled, beating his back with my fists. Wayne smirked,

"Poor choice of words." Mother-Fu-- for the second time today, he dropped me on the ground. Ow. I grabbed the wheelchair and pulled myself back into the leather seat. Ouchies, that one really hurt, I think I may have fractured both my ankle and my tailbone.

**_Bruce's POV_**

Hehe, that was fun, but man, I swear the Joker must be part tiger or something. I'm gonna have clawmarks on my back for a week. I grabbed the back of his wheelchair and took off running down the halls, pulling him backwards behind me. Wheeeee. Slightly out of breath, I burst through the double doors of Room Five.

"The fun had arrived! Oh yeah, and the Joker." I struck a pose. BAM. I've been hit! Brucie down! CODE RED, MAYDAY,** MAYDAY**! What was that? I rolled over, groaning and saw the Joker holding his wheelchair up. That's a new one, I should suggest it to Jim. The Bat Chair, K-Os with one strike.

"Bruce, are you okay? What do you think you were doing, kid? You can't injure our leading actor, he's worth twice his weight in gold!" Jim was yelling at the Joker. Haha. I stuck my tongue out at him, nyah. The Joker seemed to stiffen for a second, then he collapsed. Um, is that supposed to happen? I sat up and scooted over to Jim's side where he was checking the Joker's injuries. "What the hell, I asked for two helpers, I get my main star and a beaten up little brat. What am I supposed to do with you two?"

The Joker moaned and slowly sat up, "My back... my ankle... what hit me, Lieutenant?" Lieutenant? I think I may have dropped him a little too hard last time. Jim seemed stunned for a second, then he studied the Joker closely.

"Why, Jack Fucking Oker, is that you? I haven't seen you in years. How ya doing?" Now it was my turned to be surprised, Jim knew the Joker? By his real name? The Joker smiled, the Joker can smile?

"Hey Lieutenant, I'm fine, apart from being dropped, dragged, and flipped by your, little star over here. How are you?" I beg your pardon, I did not flip him. and why does he call Jim, Lieutenant?

"I'm doing great, Oker. I see them scars healed up nicely. Did you finally get "them" to leave?" Them? Who's them? And Jim knew the Joker when he got his scars? Small world.

"Yeah, took a few years though. Mommy and Daddy left too." I snickered, unable to help it. "What's so funny, jerk?"

"You are what, 16? And you still call your parents Mommy and Daddy?" The Joker winced at the sound of the word "parents". Jim got a look on his face I had never seen directed at me before, true fury.

"Bruce, Jack is an orphan, like you. Mommy and Daddy were... other people."

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A/N: And so ends chapter 4. I just realized, 142 readers does not equal 12 reviews. Please review. It makes me want to update twice a day if I can. Sorry for the shortish chapter.


	5. Beware of Booty Bumper Stickers

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High.

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A/N: Hello, loyal minions. Just joking... if anything, I'm all of you guys' minion. I'm a review whore. It runs in my family. Just like insanity is hereditary, you get it from your kids. Today's rant: Work. I work at the public library a few blocks from home. Today I had to do the one project my boss, we shall call her... Doris, after Doris Lang from VHD, has been putting off for almost three years. Going through the entire children's/easy reader's section and marking off all of the old barcodes. I worked for three hours and only got two 3-shelf bookcases done. I would have enjoyed it more if I wasn't forced to sit in a baby chair that sits about 6 inches off the ground. I'm very tall with long legs, it was hell. I somehow managed to kind of curl up and work.

I came home with inky, black fingers and an aching spine. The dishes weren't done, the 2 dozen garlic butter/cheese biscuits I baked in the hour before going to work were gone, dinner wasn't made, Mother was giving me the silent treatment, and both of the fish were dead. Plus, Father chose tonight to go out to dinner with Uncle Neil, so I'm going to be up until 3 am or so, waiting for him to come home, so I can let him in. I only slept for a few hours today because Mother needed me awake early this morning to do chores for her, which Father had already done. I have work again tomorrow, continuing my job from today. I feel oh, so, responsible, yet very irresponsible. I hate responsibility.

The highlight of my day was an hour long conversation with Akito. So, what I'm trying to say, in very roundabout way, is that **this entire story is now dedicated to her**. She is my best friend, hopefully now and forever. Love you, Akii. You guys know her as **Sango** **The Hoe**. If you read this A/N, put **"girl buddies"** in your reviews, please, to show her the love she deserves. I threw in one of our quotes, see if you can find it, dearest.

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**Why So Serious?**  
_When faced with the inescapable fact that human existence is mad, random, and pointless, one in eight people will crack up and go stark, slavering buggo! Who can blame them? In a world as psychotic as this... any other response would be crazy!_

**--Joker, Batman: The Killing Joke**

**_Joker's POV_**

The bastard was laughing at me? I'm laughable? What does that make him, hilarious? At least he stopped when he heard the Lieutenant say that I'm an orphan. Bruce Wayne, speechless? Unheard of. I bet he wants to know who Mommy and Daddy were. Too bad, their existances are never going to be shared to anyone other than people involved if I can help it.

"Lieutenant, will you help me up, please?" I asked quietly, reaching out slowly. Lt. Gordon suddenly seemed to remember I was there, and quickly grabbed my arms, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. Actually, to a tough guy like him, I probably don't weigh anything. Note to self: Remember to eat dinner tonight. I was, once again, albeit slightly more gently, deposited in a chair. Without warning, Wayne regained his vocal abilities,

"I'm.. sorry... I... I didn't... didn't realize... sorry." Wow, two apologies, in one sentence? I must have just exhausted his reserve for the next ten years. I sighed,

"Accepted. Lieutenant, if you give me a few minutes, I'll be ready to work. Uh, how are Junior and Barbara, I haven't seen them in, like, forever. Has Barbara recovered from her accident?" I attempted to change the subject, Lt. Gordon seemed pleased that I remembered his family.

"They're both doing swell, Barb's just undergone a surgery that might make it possible for her to walk again, we don't know if it was a success yet. How's... school going? You still excelling in sci--"

"Who are Mommy and Daddy?" The bastard interupted, damn, I thought I had dodged that bullet. I huffed, angrily.

"None of your business. That's the past, let sleeping dogs lie. If you wake them, they'll bite you in the ass. You wouldn't want your "perfect" little booty damaged, would you?" I rolled my eyes when I said "perfect". I never bothered to notice his behind, I bet it's as rotten as he is, a butt gone bad, feral even. I started giggling, gaining weird looks from the occupants of the room. "Beware of Booty", I want a bumper sticker like that.

**_Bruce's POV_**

Today is full of surprises. The Joker is smart enough to take classes with me, Jim knows the Joker as 'Jack', and the Joker looks almost... cute when he giggles. SLAP. I hit my forehead, Bad Brucie, don't think of enemies as cute, anyways, you like girls, it's just that the Joker is kind of girly. Yeah, that's it.

"You okay, Bruce?" Jim sounded concerned, probably it was slapping myself that got his attention. Umm, cover-up, cover-up.

"I got it, the mosquito, I mean. Icky things, they suck blood, kinda like... bats." I grinned, with a cheerful facade, anything is believable, right? Wrong.

"Wayne, I've known you almost as long I've known Jackie-boy, here. I can tell when you're faking. Is it relevant to today's work? No. Good. Feeling ready, Jack?" Jim smiled, I shuddered, that smile is bad news. It means we have a hell load of work to do and a very short time in which to do it. The Joker nodded, and hopped up with only a small grimace of pain,

"Let's do this thing."

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Jim lead us to my favorite room of all, the Batman set. I saw some people I knew and waved, they all smiled, happy because they saw their favorite actor earlier than expected. Bruce Wayne, King of Smiles. After all, Gotham Daily News voted my smile to be the number one sexiest smile of 2005, 2006, 2007, and nominated it for 2008. It's no wonder that people love seeing it.

"Jack, Bruce, we're going to the labs. Right over here." Cool, I didn't know there was a door here! Jim swiped his keycard and the door opened, revealing a messy room, devoid of human activity. Is it just going to be the Joker and me? Maybe I can use my sexy smile and convince him to tell me about Mommy and Daddy. Jim grinned his evil "working" smile again.

"Your first job is to clean up this lab. If you get it done before it's time to go, I have another task for you." Clean? Clean as in... clean? Like using elbow grease? Ewww. The Joker just nodded and rolled up his sleeves.

"Where are the supplies?" Supplies? Sounds like he's asking for rations or something. The war for cleanliness. Will dirt triumph? Or will cleanliness finally prevail? Shaking my head to clear these stupid thoughts, I just barely heard Jim's reply before he left the room.

"In the closet over there, top shelf." The Joker nodded and hobbled over, opening it and surveying the results. He selected a feather duster and a brightly colored bottle of... something. Windex, I think. He chucked it at me, and I, being as perfect as I am, deftly caught it.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" I got a weird look from my partner.

"Clean the windows, what else?" Shaking his head, as if he couldn't believe I didn't know what to do, he bent over and began organizing the scattered papers that covered practically everything in sight. Sadly, my attention was drawn to one thing. The Joker actually has a pretty good backside. Better then the frontside, I chuckled slightly and walked over to my foe, the windows.

Aahh, there's so many of them! Calm down Brucie, you're not outnumbered, you just have a wider selection of targets. I grabbed some paper towels from a stack in the closet, reaching over the Joker.

**_Joker's POV_**

It's bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-yeah. I whistled slightly as I worked. Organizing was something easy for me, I've had to do harder things before... that came out so wrong. I felt Wayne lean over me then leave to begin his task. Hehe, this should be interesting. I watched him from the corner of my eye.

He was holding the cleaner in one hand and paper towels in the other. After a few experimental squirts, he was "ready" to start. We have lift-off, the Windex has left the bottle. Touchdown! There is contact... why is he writing his name on the window? I coughed slightly, to give him a hint to start working. I then returned to my original job, I neatly stacked the papers in alphabetical order. Most of them were Bat-something or other anyways. When I finished, I went and grabbed the mop to wash the floors.

This was an even more simple job than my last one. I started whistling again, mopping cheerfully. Wait, I seem to be forgetting something. I spun around, to check the bastard's progress. Hey, he's almost done, amazing.

"When you're done with that, would you wash the tables too, please?" He gave an almost imperceptible nod, gazing at the window with the look of an artist completing his masterpiece. I continued my mopping, whistling, and secret glances. He soon finished the windows and, deciding they were satisfactory, began his table-scrubbing. Before too long, we were done.

"Woo," Wayne sighed, "that was hard. Do people actually have to do this daily?" I rolled my eyes and nodded, then checked my watch.

"We still have half an hour before we're due back at school. Didn't Lt. Gordon say he had another job for us?" The bastard nodded wearily, honestly, it was only a short cleaning job, doesn't he have to work long hours to film Batman? This shouldn't wear him out. I limped towards the door, with the tired idiot dragging along behind me.

**_Bruce's POV_**

God, I hate the smell of cleaning supplies. I'm giving all my maids a raise when I get home. I drudged after him, back out onto my set. I wonder what job(jobs?) Harvey and Rachel got, hopefully better than mine. I spotted Jim talking with the scriptwriter, Dr. Crane, about something or other.

"We're done, Lieut--" The Joker stopped short when he saw Dr. Crane. "Why are you here, Scarecrow?" Scarecrow, what the hell? Joker also knows Dr. Crane, reaaaaaaaally small world. The writer smiled,

"Why, Jack, Jim was just telling me he'd met with you. How are you doing? And "Mommy" and "Daddy"? Are they listening these days?" Dr. Crane knows Mommy and Daddy too? Why am I kept out of the loop? I'm special too, goddammit!

"I asked you, why are you here, Scarecrow? You should still be in jail." Jail? My ears are burning, I WANNA KNOW!! Jim smiled, and shook his head.

"Jonathan was aquitted, remember? He repented and got help. I only hired him because I believe he has truly come around." The Joker took a step back and whispered angrily,

"I will never believe it, this sicko can't repent for what he did to all those people. I don't even care about what he did to me, all the other people didn't deserve the treatment they got from Scarecrow." What did he mean, "did to me"? What does the Joker have against Jon, as I shall now call him? Jon smiled a bit, and retreated from the line of fire, heading into his office.

Jim shook his head again, "Let's put that aside for now. Jonathan was kind enough to bring me next week's script. Bruce, we were going to discuss a recurring supervillian, correct? Well, the board voted on it, so now it's offical. You have a nemesis, congradulations!" I gaped. What? But I don't want that to happen!

"But--" I was cut off by the Joker, "What does that have to do with us?" He was shaking slightly, does Dr. Crane, or Jonny, really scare him that much? Jim wrapped an arm around the Joker's lithe form and lead him to the stage, I followed, dumbfounded.

"I want you two to read lines for me today. I need to get a feel of what the script sounds like." I nodded slightly, this was routine for me. The Joker felt otherwise,

"Our job is to work on the engineering side, not reading scripts like some poofball actors I know." Poofball? Is he dissing me? Oh, that little...

"Yes, I'm aware, but I thought you would for me. Please?" Jim begged the Joker, who glared at him.

"Fine, but just for today." Jim cheered and handed the Joker the script.

"You won't regret it, we'll mention you in the credits, okay? Now, Bruce, get a copy from over there, and start from page 17. The scene where..."

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A/N: There, a longer chapter, in celebration of** 200** readers from more than **10 **countries and **5 **out of **7 **continents. Please forgive my rant earlier, my life actually isn't too bad. I just had one of the Joker's "bad days". Remember people **_"GIRL BUDDIES" and REVIEW_**


	6. Among The Mops, BANANA HAMMOCK

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High.

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A/N: Hello everyone. Thank you all for your love and support. I apologise for not posting yesterday. I took a day off. I slept until 30 minutes before work started. Work was good, I still had to do the hard job of marking off barcodes, but it was better today, I sat on the floor, much more comfy. I nabbed some movies and came home and chilled on my couch. Father was at work and Mother was attending some dinner thing with her friends/business partners. Sachi (7/10 is her penname) was rollerskating downstairs. I dug out a cheese enchilada, vegetarian, of course, and watched Borat, The Nativity Story, Batman Begins, and Lost in Translation. Dad came home on time, lovely day, the only thing that could have made it better was Akito, right, babe? I checked my email before going to bed, 3 new reviews, and almost 300 readers!

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To: **The Crimson Wing, Goddess of Chaos, Assisstant to The Yaoi Queen of Doom**, You have a lot of energy, eh? So much that I have to make a note of it. Thank you for... stalking my story.

To: **Narias**, Thank you for being the first person to write "girl buddies". You have set a good example.

To: **Everyone** that has ever read my story, I love you all, you make me want to continue writing, especially my reviewers.

Last, but certainly not least, TO: **AKITO (SANGO THE HOE),** People love you, **Super Duper Chocolate Bear, GIRL BUDDIES!!**

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**Why So Serious?  
**_"Luck. That's what it all boils down to, doesn't it? The smallest break one way or another. It can change a life or destroy it. And you can't fight it. No matter how strong you are."_

**--Joker, Some Comic or Something**

**_Joker's POV_**

"The scene where Batman meets the new supervillian, Jo Vial, for the first time. Right after Jo kidnapped the mayor and Batman saved him, but let Jo escape without being seen. Okay? Take five minutes or so to get "aquainted" with your lines."

I nodded, stiffly, and glanced through my lines. I have a photographic memory, I just need to read this crap once. Wayne isn't so lucky, but he is used to reading Batman's part, so he has an advantage there. When I had finished flipping through the scene, I tossed the script over to a crew member. They weren't expecting it, but so what, I have every right to be upset.

Two people from my past, one of them was tied with Wayne for my second worst enemy. The other was like a 3rd parent to me, but still was friends with my 2nd worst enemy. I flopped down on one of the couches they had on set. Grrr. I didn't want to read lines like some actor, I wanted to work on engineering and applied sciences. I've always been good with physics and chemistry. Jim spoke up,

"Are you both ready? Yes? Jack, are you sure you don't want your script? It'll help." I shook my head and rose, turning to face Wayne. His lines are first,

"You wanted me, here I am." I chuckled, recalling my lines perfectly.

"Ah, the famous Batman, the mayor told me everything about you."

"I certainly hope not." Here, Batman was supposed to throw the first punch, but of course, we're only reading the script.

"C'mon, I want you to do it, hit me, HIT ME!" Jo Vial doesn't fight back, and that scares Batman, puts him on edge. We continued reading and even started doing some of the motions. Circling, taunting, it was then Wayne got a little carried away. He actually followed the script and tried to tackle me, giving the famous "Bat-call" screech.

Ouch. I think I was a little too immersed in my character. What is it with people injuring me today? I get pushed around by the jocks this morning, stomped on by rapid fangirls, dropped and tackled by Bruce Wayne. I smacked him across the face, just hard enough to sting, and wiggled out from underneath him. I stood, and said my next line,

"People will die, starting tonight. I'm a man of my word." And with that, I strode off the stage, leaving Batman stunned, alone on his crumbling pedestal. The higher you stand, the harder you fall. The crew slowly began to clap, then a few cheers rose. Jim looked happy.

"Hey, kid, have you ever considered acting? That was great!" I shook my head, angrily, wincing at the pain in my ribs. I think I wanna go to the hospital, but I don't have the money. Oh well, I'll survive. Wayne was helped up by some of his many assisstants.

"I think it's time for us to go back to school. Tomorrow, I hope we can start the actual work." Burn. Haha. Without so much as a backwards glance, I stormed out of the room. Around the corner I could see the elevator. Why didn't we take that in the first place? Damn you Bruce Wayne, damn you. I stood, quietly cursing my bastard partner, waiting for the elevator. I looked down, I still have Jan's ice pack, how did I not notice that? I'll give it to her when I go through the lobby.

An arm wrapped around my neck in a chokehold. What the hell? I struggled a bit, but, curse you, fates, even if I wasn't in pain, I probably couldn't have broken free.

"If you don't let me go, I'll scream rape!" A dark chuckle sounded behind me. I took a deep breath, "RA--" A hand was slapped over my mouth as I was pulled into a dark closet. The arm and hand removed themselves at once. I turned, blindly, trying to see my attacker. A breathy voice broke the silence among the mops.

"Why haven't you ever tried acting, is it your... scars? You know they can be covered by makeup or some surgery. You could be a big star." It was Wayne, why would he drag me into a closet just to talk, theatrical much? Bah.

"I hate actors. Just like I hate hospitals, therapists, and purple popcicles. Because I can. It's my business, butt out." I huffed angrily and felt for the door. My hand only found something warm and soft. Damn Wayne, he's standing between me and the exit. "Move, bastard, I get claustrophobic."

**_Bruce's POV_**

I grinned, unseen in the darkness. "Aww, widdle Joker is afwaid of the dark?" He growled, I told you he was half-tiger! He tried to shove me away from the door, unsuccessfully, of course. "I'll move if you say the magic words."

"What? Banana Hammock?" Damn him, I guess the seniors' joke last year got around.

"Uh... no." Wow, Brucie, that sounded convincing. "I meant pretty please." The Joker just snorted.

"Of course you did. PRETTY PLEASE, move away from the door." I laughed. He actually said it. Hehe. I stepped aside.

"Fine." He scurried forwards, and jimmied the handle. Once, twice, thrice. What's going on? Why isn't it opening?

"You. Bastard. You kidnapped me, and dragged me into a dark, now locked, closet. Why do you insist on making my life a living hell?" He sounds almost ready to cry. Do I really make it so hard for him? I pushed him away and tugged on the handle. It was locked, really locked.

Locked in a closet with a weird, quiet underclassman. They make horror movies like that. They also make porno movies like that, but there is zero chance of anything similiar happening. Not that I'd want it to, I didn't mean it like that.

"Looks like we're gonna be here until someone notices I'm missing." As soon as I said that I winced. I should have said "we're missing". Oh well, slip of the tongue. The Joker gave a sarcastic laugh.

"That's right, Wayne, because there is no one who would miss me. Even if I died. Lt. Gordon might show up at my funeral, but he'll just go on with his life." I shook my head, then, realizing he couldn't see it, said,

"You're wrong, people would miss you. You must have someone. A teacher, a friend, a relative?" The Joker chuckled, dryly,

"Nope, I live alone, I eat alone, I have since I was 9. Lt. Gordon is the closest thing to a friend I've ever had. He took care of me for a few weeks until I could get my own apartment. The judge granted me that as long I kept in touch with the court weekly. But even that communication stopped last year." Wow, poor guy, I mean, even when my parents were murdered, I still had Rachel and Alfred, and everyone else showering me with love and sympathy.

"You've been by yourself since 3rd grade? That's illegal." I may not like the Joker, but maybe I can give him a break.

"Probably, but hey. Wayne, this is Gotham." True, but still...

"Why do you call me, Wayne and Jim, Lieutenant?" It has confused me for a while.

"I call him Lieutenant because that's what he was when I met him. Lt. James Gordon, Gotham Police Department. And you? You're Wayne because I refuse to acknowledge your name, as you did to mine." Jim was a cop? News to me. Wait.

"What do you mean, 'I don't acknowledge' your name. You've been the Joker since second grade, if you didn't like it, you could have changed it years ago." The Joker laughed, in that sarcastic manner of his,

"You think I WANT to known as the Joker. I never did, you were the source of my years of bullying. You told everyone to call me the Joker and they listened to you because you're Bruce Wayne, Prince of Gotham. And me, I'm little Jack Oker from the Narrows. The kid with the Glasgow smile. The freak who doesn't deserve to live. That's who I am."

Before I could reply, there was creak and a squeak. What the hell was that?

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A/N: Chapter 6 people, woot! Thank you for reading, **REVIEW PLEASE**


	7. Amish Snapping Turtles

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs.

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A/N: Hello everyone! -dodges rotten carrots- I'm so sorry! I was so caught up in my own affairs that I didn't remember my fans, who love me. For who I am. I had the dentist, The Dark Knight, Wall-E, a wedding, Subway, a coffeeshop, and a chinese restaurant. Forgive me. Please. By the way, I'm badly allergic to carrots. Please do NOT use them as weapons, that's fighting dirty. You know I'm talking to you.

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**Why So Serious?**  
_"Aha ha ha ha ha! Boy, did you get the wrong number! Leave your name and number at the sound of the shriek."_

**--The Joker's Answering Machine**

**_Joker's POV_**

There was a creak and a squeak. What the hell was that? The creak was me taking a step backwards from Wayne, otherwise I was going to sock him. The squeak came from near the ceiling. In this pitchblack, inclosed space, it was impossible to clearly see the source. Wayne gasped,

"Oh no, no no no no. Crap." That doesn't make me feel any better.

"What do you mean, oh no, crap? What the hell is that?" My voice rose a few octaves, damn, I sounded like a girl.

"This... this is... the... the bat room." The what? Hell to the no.

"The bat room? You dragged me into the bat room?! ...what is the bat room?" He gave a nervous laugh.

"Jim needs some real bats for a few shots of Batman every so often. A little under the table trading got him what he needed. When they're done working, the bats come back in here and enjoy homegrown mayflies and crickets. They're fed around 8.. at night. So we might be stuck here, with the... bats... until tonight." I could hear the sound of Wayne shaking from my newly-found, crouched position in the corner.

"Are you.. afraid of bats, Wayne? Batman hates bats? Shocking, a twist I would have never expected." I am really surprised. Bruce Wayne, with all with his money, power, strength, is afraid of something. And bats, of all things. I adjusted my position so that I was sitting down, instead of crouching, and facing Wayne. I asked the important question,

"What happened?" He took a deep, shuddering breath and said,

"I was 8, my dad brought mom and I out to the countryside. Minnesota, I think, and I begged to go exploring. Dad said sure, so I took off, all happy and such. It was a big piece of land, 30 or so acres. Just a temporary summer home until the one in Martha's Vineyard gets redone. I found a shallow pond, full of fish. I decided to go swimming, even though I only had boxers. I was splashing around, and I noticed a little crevice in the rocks surrounding the pool. Being the headstrong kid I was..."

"Still are." I interrupted, shrinking back against the wall. The wingbeats seemed to get closer.

"I wanted to explore, so I crawled inside. It was dark, but surprisingly dry. I heard something and looked up. There was a few hundred bats above me, I screamed, they turned into a hurricane of flapping wings. I was pelted with hairy bodies as I flung myself out of the cave. I ran home in my underwear and didn't leave the house until the last day. I've been afraid of bats since then." He shuddered and I could hear rustling fabric, he was probably pressed against the wall too.

"Wayne... I can't believe I'm saying this, but... it's gonna be alright. They'll find us soon. We're due back at school in three minutes. They're all going to freak out and eventually search this entire building for you." I said, bitterness creeping into my voice in the last sentence.

"You really think so, Joker?" Grr. I try to help him and he calls me names.

"It's Jack, I'm sure you don't care, but at least I'll feel like I tried to convince you." He laughed a little.

"I'll call you, Jack, if you call me Bruce. Or Your Supreme Lord and Master. That'd work too." I joined in with the laughter.

"Okay, Way- Bruce."

**_Bruce's POV_**

A second ago I was scared out of my wits. Now I'm easily laughing with the Joker. Oops. Jack. Jack. Jackie. Jackie Chan.

"Hiiiiyaaah." Did I say that outloud? Damn. The Jok-Jack ceased chuckling, and, sounding concerned, asked,

"Bruce, what was that? Was that you?" I sheepishly replied,

"Yeah, I sometimes say things that don't make much sense when I drift into daydreams, like that guy, JD, from Scrubs, you know? Sorry, Jack. Hey, where are you?" I started moving around a little, reaching out. This closet isn't that wide, I found him almost immediately.

"I don't have a TV, so I can't watch Scrubs, but I heard it was good. Hey, watch where you're putting those hands. I might really have to scream rape today." Where were my hands? Oh. Whoops. I quickly withdrew, letting out a nervous giggle.

"Sorry. You really don't have a TV? I always thought everyone had them, except for old hippie families and those really strict Amish people." Hehe. Amish. Funny word, unfunny concept. It would be neat to be Amish. I heard they are really good chefs. I should Alfred about getting an Amish cook.

"Can't afford one. I don't have electricity anyways. Had to chose between that and water. My "home" is a two-room apartment, one room is a bathroom, the other is a bedroom." We both fell silent after that, but for different reasons. Jack, I think I'll call him the Joker in my head, until I get used to the new name, is probably embarrassed that he let out that much information. I'm embarrassed because I feel spoiled rotten. Now I know why the Joker hated me.

"I'm sorry. Um. Can I... can I help in any way?" I probably shouldn't have done that, but, he clearly needs help.

"No. I don't need charity." he snapped at me. Snapped, Joker, the snapping turtle.

"No, but you need help."

"No, I don't... I don't." The Joker sounds so miserable, I just wanna hug him. Where did that come from? I know I'm touchy-feely, but I barely know him. Poor guy. I check out his butt, refer to our situation as ideal for porno, and now I wanna touch him? What's wrong with me. A few squeaks were emitted overhead. I giggled, nervously. Bats. I hate bats.

"Are you okay, Wa-Bruce?" HA! He's also having trouble adjusting to new names. I should probably reply.

"Fine. I just... hate bats." My teeth were chattering I was so scared.

"Cold?" Jack was making the click-clack sounds, too, but again, for different reasons then mine.

"A little. They keep this room chilled to minimize movements of the bats. Slows their heartrate down, you know. We should sit together, you know, conserve body heat." I said that and slowly began crawling towards the Joker. I reached out, expecting to find a wall to steady myself on, my hand only found air. I fell foward, I realised I was about to crush the Joker. Oh no.

Something soft, warm, and slightly damp was pressed against my lips.

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A/N: Cliffy, muahaha. I bet most of you have an idea of what might happen next chapter. You're ALL WRONG, or right. Depends on your imagination. Speaking of imagination, use yours to decide where Bruce felt up the Joker. Hey, I've been meaning to apologise for my spelling and grammar errors. I don't have any sort of spellcheck available on my Windows 98. I barely have internet. It's piggybacked off of my parent's.


	8. Kubler Ross' 5 Stages of Grief

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs. I don't own the Truman Show with Jim Carrey.

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A/N: I'm sorry for not updating quickly. I've been losing my groove, haven't I? My life was just chock full for a while and now I dealing with the aftermath. My sister and I were shipped out our grandparents, IN **MINNESOTA**!! I had fun until I got injured. My aunt took us to wade in the Mississippi, I punctured my heels on rocks in the water, infected some older, already-healing cuts, and twisted both my ankles tripping over roots because my sister HAD to take the road less traveled. Then I had to hike back to the train, it was over a mile, and 98 degrees, when did Minnesota get so hot? Then we got on a bus, the wrong bus, and we had to find a new bus. Then we ended up walking to my aunt's house. Plus, the plumbing has been backed up for 3 days. We have to walk over to a store or something to use their bathrooms. When the plumber fixed it this morning, I flushed it three times, just to see it go down. I'm in agony. But Akito called, yay, and I watched Birdcage.

By the way, I have had bad experiences with bats, so I understand the fear Bruce has for them. They are in my top three fears. Bats, Rats, and Cats.

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**Congratulations!  
**Sneakyninja18: closest guess.  
Crimson Wing: Akito and I agree that you are the best reviewer yet. You leave long reviews that both praise and criticize our work. It makes us very happy, keep up the good work.Thank you.

**ADVERTISMENT:** Yet another story was dedicated to (and inspired by) Me. Primrose Path- Sango The Hoe. Story of how the Joker came to be. Read it!

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**Why So Serious?**  
_"We've got a flying mouse to kill, and I wanna clean my claws"_  
**-Joker, Batman (movie)**

**_Bruce's POV_**

Something soft, warm, and slightly damp was pressed to my lips. Repulsed, I reached up and ripped the bat from my face. Screaming loudly, I chucked it in the direction of the opposite wall. As I pressed myself into the corner, shaking, I realised the wall seemed a little too comfy. Oops. I crushed the Joker. Ding, Dong, The Witch Is Dead? Nah, that's mean, he's my newest friend.

"Just. Roll. Off. Me. Now." he sounded a little muffled. I moved over and sat next to him, instead of on. I could feel his body heat, amplified by the chill of the room. I scooted a tad closer.

"I'm cold." Two words. All I needed to say. We huddled together, two lost souls, from opposite worlds, on the same level because of the temperature. Bah, I sound like a romance novelist. Basically, we shared a foe, in this case bats, and the room is freezing. Why wouldn't we sit by each other, it doesn't need to sound so flirty.

"So, why don't you like purple popcicles?" Just making conversation.

"Artifical fruit flavors are usually nasty, unless they're apple. Apple candy and such always uses apple juice. They can't imitate the flavor. At least, not well." I never really thought about it, but I guess he's right. Fruit flavoring should be natural.

"Yeah, hey... how do you know Jim? You met him when he was a cop, so it was before I met him. Were you some kind of child criminal genius?" I was hesitant to ask, because he seemed so skittish before. But he answered this time,

"He was one of the cops that picked me up after my parents died. And he also picked me up when my foster family situation blew up, literally." Wow, he really has had a hard life.

"What happened to your parents?" I knew I was prodding a wildfire with a newspaper, I'm probably going to get burned before too long. But, my luck was holding so far.

"My father was... a drinker. And my mother gambled and got in deep with the sharks. One night, when I was 7, I come home and they were lying on the living room floor, begging the mob hitman, Joe Chill, for one last chance. He wasn't very forgiving, he took his blade and placed it in Father's mouth.

"Let's put a smile on that face." Chill gave Father the Glasgow smile, and then did the same to Mother. Mother and Father died of blood loss on the way to the hospital, DUA." I sat, stunned and horrified, as Jack's life became clearer. He suffered all that at age 7? Most people can live out a whole lifetime without seeing that much gore. But one detail bugged me,

"Is that how you got your scars?" He laughed, but it was a dark, hollow sound.

"No, but it gave them the idea." Them? Who's them?

"What do you mean?" I felt him flinch,

"Nothing. I don't wanna talk about it." And my luck runs out. I tried to think of a different topic, aha!

"How did you remember all your lines earlier? You barely even looked at the script." The mood brightened slightly.

"I have a photographic memory, Sca- I mean, someone, "helped" me refine it." I bet he was going to say Scarecrow, so Jon helped him learn to utilize his memory? Why does the Joker hate him then? Wait, so the Joker went through the traumatic experience of his parents' deaths with a photographic memory? Oh god, that's horrible.

"Why don't you want to be an actor, it pays well. You get lots of bonuses, health, dental, and such." The other thing that was pressing from the back of my mind. It confused me why anyone would want to skip an oppourtunity like this.

"I always hated acting because of you. Pretending to be somebody else isn't my forte, either." Because of me? I'm almost dying of guilt, take pity on me, Jack.

"It's just like reading a book, only out loud. You don't have to fake it." He shifts a little closer to me, and I hear him wrap his arms around himself. It's really getting cold now, I wish I had worn long sleeves.

**_Joker's POV_**

I was starting to shiver again. It's only like 60 degrees, but compared to 80 outside, it made a big difference. I realized how close I was curled up to Bruce, that's embarrassing. Whoops, I haven't replied,

"Yeah, I guess, I'm just not interested in acting. It doesn't have the same challenge as engineering. I can picture how everything is put together and every possible problem that may arise. It sort of came with the photographic memory. You know, if I wasn't already working, I might consider doing it. It pays well, more than I make, but I have a debt to pay off, I won't, I can't, go back on my word." That came out a little more cryptic then I'd wanted it to be.

He scoffed, "Why can't you use the money from acting to pay off what you owe? It would pay faster."

I gave Bruce a rueful smile, but it's not like he could see it. "Because I don't pay in money." And that came out a little more dirty then I'd meant to imply. Now the only way to clear up this awkwardness is clarifying on what I said. Which I can't do, sworn to secrecy and such.

"What does that mean? You don't, you know, do IT, right? Drugs and such?" Ah, at least he understood it differently. I shook my head, then said,

"No. I promised myself I would never to do drugs after what happened with Sca-- someone." Damn, why do I keep slipping up? I never tell anyone half of what I've told Bruce Wayne. It's not like he's easy to talk to. He stayed quiet after that answer.

All of a sudden, we heard shouts down the hall. Yes! We are being missed! They'll find us soon! Doors were banging open and shut and alarms were ringing. They have a "Bruce Wayne Is Missing" alarm system? Something is very wrong here.

I jumped, swayed for a second, and resumed beating the door with my fists. The footsteps crashed down the halls and past our door. In the hubbub, it seems we can't be heard. Bruce also stood, and helped me knock frantically. We're so close to being saved! We can't give up now!

I knocked until I could feel my knuckles brusing and bleeding. Until all the ruckus, excluding the alarms, had died down. I couldn't stop, I was possessed. Arms wrapped around me and pulled me away, even as I reached for the door. I hate closed spaces, another "gift" from my past. I broke down sobbing, I have finally reached the point of desperation.

"This can't be happening, It's not fair! I'll do anything if you let me out of here! Oh, why bother." I sniffled, "Deep breaths, breathe deeply. It's going to be alright." A chuckle sounded from behind me.

"I think you just went through the five stages of grief in 5 seconds. I'm impressed." Bruce unwrapped his arms from my waist and settled back down on the floor. I sighed, and flopped down next to him again, raising my voice to be heard over the din of the alarms.

"Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally, acceptance. I've had those thrown at me so many times over the years, I have them memorised. They're true, Dr. Kubler- Ross is right, I guess, but I don't usually analyze my feelings in that way. I'm ahead of the curve." I sniffed once more and dried my eyes with my collar. The one day this month I wear short sleeves is the day I get locked in a freezer.

"Wow, if you're this smart, why aren't you in more advanced classes, not just Tech?" He likes asking questions, eh? I'll give the dog a bone, just for now. That totally came out wrong.

"I don't want to be, I'm content with getting a 4.0 in less advanced classes. I have enough on my plate without school being challenging. Science and Engineering are my passions, so I don't mind skipping ahead with them." I laughed, what have I done today that involves engineering? Ha.

An acrid smell began filling the closet. And I laughed harder, the seriousness of our situation sinking in at long last.

* * *

A/N: It's 2 AM, I gotta quit, I'm jumpy, tired, achey, and I just wanna curl up in my bed and stare at the ceiling. I'm an insomniac, hence the late night posting, but my family does not believe in/support most modern medication. So I tough it out. Even though it was insomnia that killed our beloved Heath Ledger. His sleeping pills mixed badly with other stuff and he OD'd.

I've OD'd before and it was one of the scariest times of my life. Allergy pills, the box said one every three hours, I took one every four and I still OD'd. Drowsy, nauseous, pain, fear. Horrible. I guess I have a similar mind to Heath's, I can't slow it down. It runs and runs and never stops, but not quite Mensa material. YET.

Oh well, end on a happy note. Good Morning. And in case I don't see you, Good Afternoon, Good Evening, and Good Night!


	9. Mini Pencils and Birkdale Handsets

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs.

* * *

A/N: Nothing new is happening. Except for one little thing. The fucking newspaper wants to interview me. Haha? I went to a very prestigious camp this summer. A camp for prodigies of science, math, and engineering. I had to send in my last report card (4.0, what else?), all the health papers, and a teacher's recommendation. I got a 275 dollar scholarship to a 300 dollar camp. I was very pleased. I told my parents I did not want to do an interview. In a town like mine, I have already inadverntantly appeared in at least 10 articles, whether for school or extra curricular activities. Why add to my eternal misery? Oh well. I'll do it. Show a couple pictures, throw in a few lines, attempt to hide my face. Wish me luck!

* * *

**Why So Serious?**  
_"Will true love prevail? Not on my show"  
_**-The Joker, Wild Cards Part 1**

**_Joker's POV_**

An acrid smell began filling the closet. And I laughed harder, the seriousness of our situation sinking in at long last. That was smoke. Where there's smoke there's fire. Where there's fire there is **FUCKING FIRE**!! I covered my mouth and said, albeit muffledly,

"Bruce. We've got to get out of here! Now! I know you know what that smell is!" He shifted nervously behind me,

"So what if I had two breakfast burritos this morning, don't look at me!" Gawd, he can't be that much of an idiot, can he? I glared my death glare, and he quickly said,

"Kidding! Geez, can you take a joke?"

"There's a fire outside, moron. The building is on fire. We might die. If the smoke don't get ya, the flames sure will. A direct quote from the Lieutenant." I jimmied the handle again, praying for a miracle. I didn't have to look too far.

"Scooch." He thinks he can do better? Fine. I moved away from the door as Bruce slipped past. He rammed his shoulder against the door. That tactic might work, eventually. But we need something faster, the smoke is slowly killing us, would this be firsthand or second hand smoke? Not the time, think, Jack, think, you can find the picture of the door in your head. What was the lock on the door, key, electric, or bolt? Hmm, KEY! I guess they aren't paranoid about having illegal animals in a closet. I poked Bruce's shoulder, at least, I think it was his shoulder.

"Bruce, what do you have in your pockets? And get down, smoke rises, remember?" I crouched and began digging through my pockets. A pencil, a piece of gum, a caramel apple lollipop, dammit. Nothing I can use to pick the lock. Bruce spoke up,

"I have a couple ball-point pens, a mini notebook with a mini pencil, a Bruce Wayne keychain, adorably chibi, and some mentos." No, we're doomed! Wait, what was that he said?

"Let me see the notebook." He was kneeling and when he chucked the notebook at me, it slammed into my nose. Ouchies. What is it with pain today? I growled again, and felt the cover, tracing along the wire spine.

"Yes!" I cheered and began twisting the wire out of the holes. Thankfully, it was already slightly loose, and worked free easily. I straightened it as best I could, and inserted it in the lock. I took a deep breath and concentrated. What was the brand on the lock. Birkdale. The lock was a Birkdale handleset. I can do this, remember your training, Jack.

Bruce shifted again behind me. "What are you doing?" Oh great, now I have to explain it. Cross that bridge when you come to it. Breathe.

"I'm picking the lock, shut up. I need silence, I haven't done this in years." That seemed to placate him for now, but I'm sure I'll be asked again later. If we get out alive, that is. I twisted the wire, applying pressure to the pins. I heard the first one snap into place, and then I repeated the process, pressing 6 pins altogether, I used the mini pencil as another pressure and... aha! The lock clicked and, after turning the handle, the door swung open.

"We're free. Why didn't you do this in the first place?" Oh sure, I just saved our lives and he critisizes me. I rushed down the hall, or rather, hurriedly hobbled my way to the stairs. I could see the flames at the other end of the third floor corridor. Bruce ran ahead leaping stairs three at a time. I was slightly slower, the pain in my ribs and foot weighing heavily on my speed.

I made it down one flight before collapsing. I had inhaled a bit too much smoke, and was a little too freaked out by pain and cold. Claustophobia does this sometimes, too. I think I'm in shock. Bruce heard my agonized moans and returned, scooping me up in manner mirroring his previous actions. I was hoisted up bridal style, and carried down the last flight of stairs and towards the front doors.

A chunk of flaming ceiling tile crashed down in front of us, sending sparks flying wildly. It was beautiful in a horrific way. The colors blending and burning, it truely is nature's art. I shook my head, clearing these unuseful thoughts. I yelled, over the crackling fire,

"Is there a back way out?" Bruce nodded and took off, dodging burning desks and chairs. The scene was the opposite of what it had been two hours ago. I hope Ms. Seybold is okay, she was a nice lady. I saw the burnt-out exit sign ahead as we burst through the door, out into fresh air, filling our lungs desperately.

**_Bruce's POV_**

I hugged the Joker close to my chest, just relieved to be alive. I barely registered the shrill cries of police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks. It was all white noise to me. All I could hear was the deep, gasping breaths of Jack and I. We made it, it's over, we'll survive. Some figures in black jackets spotted us and ran over.

"Bruce Wayne? What is he doing here? And who's this guy, I thought we had everybody out?" EMTs, they can help us. I keeled over, holding on to the Joker for dear life. A pair of hands gently tried to remove him from my arms, put I wouldn't let go, couldn't let go.

"They're both in shock get 'em in the ambulance, stat." Jack was pried from my grasp and I lost the battle with consciousness. Panic, relief, and exhaustion had set in at last.

* * *

A/N: Short chapter, I'm sorry. I have work soon, and the interview, bleh, and I promise I'll post another chapter later today.


	10. Pineapple Juice Boxes

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs.

* * *

A/N: I did the interview. It won't be in the paper for a while, yay! As long as I don't make the front page, I'm happy. I'm just not photogenic, I like being behind the camera not in front of it. Hehe, my sister made me watch Pokemon Movie 2000, and James had the greatest Pokemon gay line yet.

**Jesse:** "Listen to me kid, when you get involved with the opposite sex, you're only asking for trouble"  
**James:** "Yes, and that's the kind of trouble I stay out of."

* * *

4209 is the number of the taxi in the bottom left hand corner of the screen when the Joker's school bus pulls out of the bank wall. Next time you see the movie, look for it, it's true. The movie is The Dark Knight, duh.

* * *

**Why So Serious?**  
_"The time for sorrow has passed. It's time to look to a future filled with smiles. "  
_**-Joker, I have no idea where this came from**

**_Bruce's POV_**

I awoke to sickly smell of disinfectant. I must be in a hospital. My father always taught me to love hospitals, but that off smell of real cleanliness is kind of gross. I heard laughter and opened my eyes. A pair of nurses were staring through the window at me, blushing and giggling. And is that a camera I see? Oh well, my public loves me, I gave them a flirty smile and they scurried away.

"Master Wayne, good to see you're alive." Ah, Alfred, I turned my head towards my parent figure.

"I guess this means I missed third period." Alfred nodded, a slightly disapproving, yet relieved nod. He's happy I kept my sense of humor.

"Yes sir, you both did." Both? Oh yeah, Joker! I sat up, looking around wildly.

"Where is he? Is he okay?" My manservant nodded again, puzzled.

"Mister Oker, I assume you're refering to him? He checked himself out as soon as he regained consciousness. Is he a friend of yours, I don't recall ever hearing of him. The EMTs said you wouldn't let him go. Care to tell me why?" I blushed,

"He's my partner, remember? You told me to give him a ride to DC every morning? Yeah, due to some idiocy on my part, don't you laugh, Alfred, we got locked in the bat room. I guess we kind of bonded during our imprisonment. He picked the lock and got us out of the closet, and I carried him outside to safety, like a hero, and I didn't want to lose my newest friend!" I took a deep breath, I should start breathing between sentences. Something caught up with me,

"He already checked himself out? He's in no condition to do that! Alfred, when I get out I want to go check on him. The front desk should let me have his address if I ask "nicely" for it. And let's pay his hospital bill well we're at it! He won't admit it, but he'll have to starve to pay the bill." I coughed a little, I guess I still have smoke in my lungs.

"As you wish, Master Wayne." He left the room, closing the curtains around my bed. I leapt up and got dressed, chucking my gown in the corner. I exited the room in a hurry, anxious to see my new friend.

**_Joker's POV_**

I hobbled home to my apartment in the Narrows. How am I gonna pay my medical bill as well as the rent? I'll figure out something, I always do. I climbed the stairs to Room 4209, and quietly opened the door, then slammed it shut behind me. Honey, I'm home. I have no one to say that to, it almost breaks my heart.

I set my bag on the "kitchen" table. Really it's just a table between the bed and the mini fridge, which I opened to grab a pineapple juice box. It may be a kid's drink, but it's delicious. I've been told I have an odd fixation with pineapples, but I never really thought about it, they just taste good.

I pulled off my sooty, smelly t-shirt and exchanged it for a slightly oversized, purple tank top. It clashed slightly with my green shorts, but oh well. I flopped down on the bed and began reading my Tech textbook. I might as well memorise it, save me time in the future. I had gotten to page 154 when there was a knock at my door.

I stood up, wincing at the pain in my ribs and ankle, and opened the door slightly. I was shocked to see who was on the other side.

"Bruce? Mr. Pennyworth? What are you doing here? How did you even know to find me here?" I stepped out into the hall, protecting my last safe haven. I shut the door behind me, and turned to face my newest... friend? Can I even call him that? My savior? Laughable.

"We came to check up on you, the nurses gave us your address." Damn the medical personnal. Doctor-Patient confidentality is dead, just like chivalry. I hope they choke on their candy stripes.

"I'm fine. Please leave." Short and to the point, like me. I may not be tall, but I make up for it with a high IQ.

"But we brought you flowers!" Flowers? Do you really think I need flowers? my confusion must have shown on my face because Mr. Pennyworth said,

"Just some violets we picked up on our way, nothing too immasculine." Violets? Purple may be my favorite color, but it doesn't mean I want purple flowers from someone I only just really became aquainted with. But I suppose my apartment could use some color.

"Fine, thank you for your concern and... the flowers. I'm okay, really. Now if you wouldn't mind leaving, the stairs are that way. I was kind of in the middle of a... nap." Simple excuse. Shoo flies, don't bother me.

"Can't we stay for a little while?" Bruce. You're starting to get on my nerves again. Deep breaths, deep, calming breaths.

"Sorry, no."

**_Bruce's POV_**

Roar. Inner Bruce angry. Want in. Now.

Okay, so maybe my thoughts were a little more like this:

Gee jolly, Miss Molly. This is kind of making me mad. I want to see the inside of his apartment. Now. Alfred understood my line of thinking. He's a very perceptive old man.

I looked at Jack, starting my puppy eye pout. No one could last against that. No one. He held out his hand, a hint of confuzzlement tainted my beautiful sulk. Alfred handed him the potted violets. Oh, Joker wanted his flowers. That's kind of cute actually, wait, stop these thoughts, soon you're gonna be thinking Jack is adorable in big clothes, which he is, but that's beside the point. Wait, what? I'm so confused.

"Please, please let us inside?" I changed to my sexiest smile, another undefeatable trick. The Joker stared at me, yes, I've done it, convincing him was easy. Muahaha.

"I'm rather busy, please pardon my sudden departure. Mr. Pennyworth, if you would escort your ward back to your car, please." With that said, Jack stepped back into his apartment, slamming the door in our faces.

"I must say, Master Wayne, he certainly speaks in a rather sophisticated manner. More so than even yours, if I do say so myself." Did Alfred just say the Joker is more sophisticated then I am? And, more importantly, did the Joker ignore both my pout and my smile? How did he overcome them, they should be unstoppable! Jack's door swung open, he was watching us, waiting for us to leave. Creepy.

A crashing noise alerted us that we had company.

* * *

A/N: Second part of today's update for ya'll. Sorry for shortness again. Little busy with my non-reclusive life. The side of my life I loath with passion. 4209 really does appear in The Dark Knight. Read my author's note at the top for more info. Love you all! Please review, I'm getting lonely.** D:**


	11. Mission: Sexy

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs. I do not own Death Note. I don't own Forest Gump. I do not own Toyota. I do own a **Sienna**. And a friend by that name, and I'm hers, there's nothing gay about it in our eyes.

* * *

A/N: I'm soooo sorry, I left you guys alone, didn't I? -hugs you all- Group hug! I hit the brick wall of writer's block, and was a little put out because of the lack of reviews. I was hoping for a bit more interest being shown in my story.

Onto the next section, my life and my excuses. I had to go to my kid sister's orientation, she decided public school is not the kind of environment she wants. So I skipped out on the last day of work for this summer to meet her new teachers. The school is an hour away from here, but it's on the way to Mother's job. So Sachi-dachi was enrolled in "the school of art and science". Good for you, sis.

I got a gift card for the deli down the street from my assisstant manager. My junior boss. I feel so loved, -cries uncontrollably- I baked fudgescotchies for my two bosses, Doris and... hmm... Diana, after Diana Cross. I hope they like them, I know I do. Yumsies!

* * *

**Why So Serious?**  
_"Can't be too careful with all those weirdos around..."_  
**-Joker, Mask of the Phantasm**

**_Bruce's POV_**

A crashing noise alerted us that we had company. Actually, it wasn't the crashing noise per se, but rather the flock of people, fighting each other up the stairs. Reporters. The crash was the Joker throwing the pot of violets at the crowd, attempting to slow them down. Questions began flying,

"Bruce Wayne! Over here, is this the boy you saved from the fire?"

"Why were you in the fire, do you suspect arson?"

"Is this your boyfriend, what's his name?" After that question, the corridor fell silent, the reporters were holding their breath. Alfred sighed,

"This is John Napier. He was an office messenger boy, Bruce saved him from the fire, and wanted to make sure he was alright. No arson is suspected, Bruce was there to work on a school project. And no, the relationship does not go beyond aquaintances." Wow, the old man can really lie with a straight face. I wonder if he ever lied to me? Probably, knowing how I acted when I was little. Jack seemed stunned and retreated into his apartment, the click of the lock was like a clap of thunder in the quiet of the hallway.

One last camera clicked, and the sea of people went back down the stairs. Alfred and I waited a few minutes before deciding the coast was clear. I noticed, sadly, the pot of violets was in pieces. Oh well, matinence will clean it up later I'm sure.

I got into the passenger's side of my Lamborghini, the doctors said I couldn't drive until tomorrow. Damn them. My baby is crying at the slow speed Alfred drives, speed limit my ass. 45 mph is nothing campared to my usual speed. 10 mph! Children playing? Why can't the goddamn children just **NOT** play in the street.

Roar. Inner Bruce need to drive. Now. Kill the slow, old dude. He has keys. Roar.

Why am I in such a bad mood? It can't possibly have something to do with missing the first day of school and being a stuck in a raging inferno. Maybe it was the fact my gift of flowers was used as a weapon. Or perhaps it was Jack's blatent ignorance regarding my sexy smile, and my adorable pout. I must get him to notice them, they can't be withstood by mere mortals.

Mission: **Sexy** is underway.

**_Joker's POV_**

I groaned and leaned against the cold, hard-wood door of my little apartment. That was...unexpected to say the least. I feel a little bad about disposing of Bruce's gift like that. But I had a reason, a vicious mob of sharks/reporters was nipping at my heels. I always hated them. They're too much like my old crowd. Ruthless, vile liars with too much power in their slimy, little hands.

And what Alfred said really struck a chord. Napier. Was that a jab at my past? Or was it simply an on-the-spot lie? I slid down the door to the floor and wrapped my arms around my knees. This was my thinking pose, some famous Japanese anime character once said it raised his awareness 40 percent just to sit like this.

But he was a whackjob anyways, relentlessly persuing some brunette with a magic notebook or some crap like that. It's popular with teenage girls, due to the gayness factor of one man chasing another. And handcuffs. Handcuffs were definitely involved somehow. I have nothing against homosexuality. Hell, I might even be bi or gay, probably, knowing how fucked up I am. One more thing the world can hold against me. Anyways, I prefer the simple answer of asexuality, safety in numbers is bullshit.

I put my face in my hands, and let loose the rain of expletives that I'd barely been holding back. Today ranked pretty high on the weirdness scale of my life. But I've had weirder days. Much weirder days. Oh hum-dee-diddle-do.

I stood up, streched slightly, and opened the door. The tiny violets lay amongst shattered pottery and slightly moist soil. Bruce had put some thought into this gift, I might as well save them. Scooping them up, roots and all, I carried them into my "kitchen", and placed them in a drinking glass, one of only three that I own. Mediocrity killed the cat. Or so says Forest Gump. The book totally owns the movie, hands down.

I managed to salvage enough soil for my new roomates to survive happily. After cleaning up the rest of the mess, it's not like we have matinence or something like that, I flopped back onto my bed beside my Tech textbook, and fell asleep.

* * *

**_Bruce's POV_**

I sat behind the wheel of my "peasant car", a black Toyota Sienna, observing my prey through custom-made, German binoculars. It's only stalking if you tell or show them you're there. Ah, the chicken has flown the coop. Repeat, target in sight. I pulled up alongside the Joker and rolled down my window, sexy smile at the ready.

"Need a ride, Jack?" One look at moi and he nodded, gratefully accepting my generous offer. He opened the passinger side door and jumped in next to me. Stage One: Complete.

"Thanks, man. When did you start driving a minivan? Does Brucie have some secret fetish for family cars?" Grr, that little... this is what karma throws me? A mean-mouthed underclassman taking my noble company for granted? And insulting me as well? Respect is gone.

"This is Alfred's car, I "borrowed" it for the day. If anyone has a fetish, it would be him. Sorry to disappoint." The Joker gave me an all-knowing look when I said "borrowed", as if to say, 'I know you stole it, don't hide it, it's obvious, idiot.' Okay, maybe I exaggerated a bit, but you get the gist.

There was an uncomfortable silence. I once was told by a very wise person that for every awkward silence, a gay baby is born. I feel a little bad about changing some poor embryo into a homosexual without it's permission, but it's not my fault, I just, rare as this may be, don't have much to say.

Homosexual. That's a fun word. No one, except for the omnescient Alfred, thinks I am gay. I always acted gay as maypole, like Elton John, a hero to all of the homos. I'm actually surprised more people haven't come to that conclusion, wrong as it may be, I've been told I act pretty flamboyant. Oh well, people see what they want to see and no one wants a gay superstar, it doesn't fit the "plan" that people live by.

Pfft. I hate order. Too controlling.

"So... are you alright? You know, after the fire and all?" The Joker quietly spoke up. I nodded silently, keeping my eyes on the road. Actually, I was doing fine, the only reason I fainted yesterday was smoke inhalation. The Joker cares, aww.

You most likely have been wondering about Mission: **Sexy**, right? So I'm gonna tell ya.

**Objective**: Get The Joker To Admit I'm Sexy, By Any Means Nessessary.

**Stage One**: Entrapment. Complete.

**Stage Two**: For Lack Of A Better Word, Seduction. Further Study Is Needed.

**Stage Three**: Remains To Be Seen.

This super-awesome, foolproof plan, all credits to me, is going to get the Joker to acknowledge my superiority of sexiness. You may ask yourself, why go to such lengths to get someone, a boy at that, to like, maybe even love, me? This is my answer, I am **Bruce Wayne**. God of Sex. Prom King. Campus Hottie. Superstar Extrordinaire. Perfection In Human Form. People must notice me, I was born in the limelight and must desperatly cling to it, like a lifeline.

We reached school and instantly I noticed something odd.

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A/N: So. There. My boon. I had to chuck Death Note in there, I'm a Mello cosplayer, I'm loyal. And I was reading Forest Gump while writing this. And listening to Juno's CD. The "Gay Baby Line" is actually something I was once told, and I continue to share it. Pass it along. I'll try to update again soon, but I have school. On a lighter note, I'm dyeing my hair from blonde to red with purple highlights. Mother is trying to get me to change my mind, she loves my hair like it is now. Everyone has at least one external feature that they love, mine is my hair. It was down to my waist, but I was bored and grabbed some scissors and chopped it off at just above shoulder length. It's thick, super thick, impossible to manage, and honey-golden in color. I got the Californian genes, woot, which is lucky. The New York genes are black hair and green-grey eyes, sexy, yes, but I prefer my blondyness and blue-eyed mutantness. But I love dyeing my hair even more. Next time I'm doing bubblegum pink. Peace out.

**P.S. REVIEW!**

**P.P.S.** Akito!! Read the last 3 lines of the disclaimer! They're for you!


	12. Harleen Quinzel, Gotham Daily News

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs. I do not own Death Note. I don't own Forest Gump. I do not own Toyota. I do own a Sienna. And a friend by that name, and I'm hers, there's nothing gay about it in our eyes. -sings-

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A/N: Sorry, I didn't update sooner. My mother woke me up on Sunday morning and was like, "I wanna go to Michigan." So I'm like, "Okay...?" We got there, after stopping at three playgrounds. Ten hour drive, it was nighttime when we arrived to what my sister and I call "A Hot-Sheets Motel" or "Hot-N-Ready". Monday, we went to a mine. Full of bats. -SCREAMS AND FAINTS-

I HATE BATS!! You know Brucie's fear? That's mine too, Akii and I had a scary experience with bats. We were chased and hit by a gynormus bat while running outside, barefoot and screaming, into the snow. And then the same thing happened again three hours later. GYAAAAAAHHHHH!! .

School started, I have Adv. Math, Homeroom/PE, Art, Science, Lunch, Language Arts, Health, Social Studies, and Study Hall/Chorus. All in one day. I had my schedule memorised two weeks ago when we got our "Beginning Of The Year" packet in the mail. I read through it a couple times and, tada!

I knew it by heart, I have a semi-photographic memory, nothing fancy or too cool. I just remember stuff, usually weird stuff like "Porcupines can float -- May 14th on the calender." Or "4209" or "9 cars in the dentist office's parking lot." Nothing of great value, sadly. I just make notes of tiny, unimportant details. Lucky me. It's a habit I can't seem to break D:

Squee! My puppy just jumped in my lap and started licking my hands as I type. She's a three pound, purebred mini poodle, grey, with large, chocolate-colored eyes. Adorable. She's so small, I want to put her in my pocket and take her to school every day!

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**Why So Serious?**  
_"If I weren't crazy, I'd be insane!"  
_**- Joker, Batman: Dark Detective**

**_Bruce's POV_**

We reached school and instantly, I noticed something odd. Little bunchs of kids huddled around what seemed to be newspapers. I wonder what's going on. I pulled into my parking space, it doesn't have my name on it, but everyone knows it's mine. Jack jumped out and went off on his own, while I joined Harvey and Rachel. Bad idea, they were sucking face again, eww. It's great that they love each other and all, but when you see it everyday, it gets icky. Harvey resurfaced,

"Hey, Bruce, did ya see the paper this morning?" he saw me shake my head and continued, "It's wild! Apparently, you saved some kid name John Napier who looks a lot like the Joker. And that kid is our new co-star, playing the role of Jo Vial, according to DC! He was working there as an office boy and Jim Gordon saw his screen test for something or other, he was hired on the spot."

"He prefers to be called Jack. And he said no, he didn't accept the role of Jo Vial." Harvey and Rachel threw me identical, confused stares. I felt the way they looked, the article was a complete fabrication, Alfred's lies mixing with more lies from an unknown source. Wait, he said Jim hired Jack? But Jack specifically said, NO! Something is going on here.

**_Joker's POV_**

I observed another gaggle of giggling girls. They were clustered around Gotham Daily, a newspaper not known for it's factual articles. One whispered to the rest, as though whatever she was saying was a secret,

"I can't believe we didn't know a new supervillian was going to appear on Batman! And this new guy, he also came out of nowhere! John Napier! I wonder what he looks like, this picture isn't too clear. I hope he's hot." When I heard her news, I got a pit in my stomach, John Napier? That's what Pennyworth called... me. Oh crap! I turned, and raced back down the halls, I spotted Bruce almost immediately. He was reading the paper with Dent and Dawes, his little "gang", and had a worried... no, concerned look on his face.

"Bruce Wayne!" I stomped up to him, "Care to explain this piece of bullshit story? I can clearly remember saying NO, I do not want to be in your little "I'm a giant rat with wings!" production. Why am I suddenly Jo Vial?" My chest heaved, I haven't been this furious in a long time. He stayed silent, but handed me the paper. I snatched it and read the article of lies.

**Bruce Wayne: Real Life Hero As Well On TV?**

**_Article By: Harleen Quinzel, Top Reporter_**

_On Monday, September 1st, a fire broke out at the world famous DC studios of Gotham City. No one was critically injured but two people were sent to the hospital, one was John Napier, an office messenger boy, and our favorite star, Bruce Wayne. Both were admitted for smoke inhalation and mild cuts and burns. Napier had fractured ribs and a mildly sprained ankle, unknown causes. Both were released, Napier went AMA._

_The fire began when an angry fan, Talia al Ghul, was being bodily removed from the premises by some police officers. Eyewitnesses say she pulled a hand grenade from her bag, pulled the pin, and threw it into an upstairs window. It exploded and the whole building went into flames. The building was evacuated, and fire department soon arrived, but Wayne and Napier were still inside. The reason for this is still unknown, but when we can get an interview, we will tell you the whole story._

_As the fire department began putting out the flames, Wayne emerged, holding Napier close to him, and refused to let him go, only releasing Napier when he lost consciousness. Napier was already unconcious when Wayne exited the building. See photo above._

_John Napier. The name doesn't mean much to you or me. Who is he, really? An office boy with a life debt to Bruce Wayne, famous celebrity? Or is he something more? I can say with a great amount of emphasis, YES! John Napier is the newest addition to Batman, the hit television show. He will star as Jo Vial, Batman's first, and last, true nemesis. Or so James Gordon, the directer says. Apparently, he stumbled upon Napier's screen test for something, not yet revealed, and the boy was instantly hired._

_So next time you see a poor, overworked messenger or assisstant, offer a helping hand, they may be famous some day. **This is Harleen Quinzel, Gotham Daily, Showing The Real Story.**_

I was stunned, really stunned. The Lieutenant thinks this is going to make me want to star in his show? The nerve. Dent spoke up,

"Uh, why are you so mad at Bruce, man? And whaddaya mean, you're Jo Vial. The paper says the role went to John Napier, idiot." I growled and was about to reply, when Rachel piped in too,

"As if you could ever be on TV, hah." My fingernails dug into my palms, drawing blood, but I didn't notice. I swung around and stalked off, Dent and Dawes' laughter following me. I can't take this today, I'm going home.

Someone or something grabbed my arm, I turned and gasped.

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A/N: How's that for a cliffy, eh? Love you all, please review, I need them to write. Equivalent Exchange! Watch FMA to understand! Even if this chapter is a little short, too bad, I'm exhausted, school was rough.


	13. Sleeping Beauty

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs. I do not own Death Note. I don't own Forest Gump. I do not own Toyota. I do own a Sienna. And a friend by that name, and I'm hers, there's nothing gay about it in our eyes. -sings-

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A/N: GAH, I'm SOOO sorry! I told a handful of reviewers I would attempt to update daily. I lied! Waah. I'm just attempting to adjust to my new schedule at school. And it doesn't help that our math teacher is required to assign us 20-40 problems a day! And my language teacher is funny, but he also gives a lot of homework and orders us to improve our public speaking skills by giving short presentations to the class. I enjoy AVOIDING public speaking, it is a skill I have honed over years of reclusiveness (is that a word?)

I love you all and your reviews are one of the few things that make me really smile. Thank you, thank you very much. I love Elvis.

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**Why So Serious?**  
_"In my dream, the world had suffered a terrible disaster. A black haze shut out the sun, and the darkness was alive with the moans and screams of wounded people. Suddenly, a small light glowed. A candle flickered into life, symbol of hope for millions. A single tiny candle, shining in the ugly dark. I laughed and blew it out."_** -Joker, Unknown**

**_Joker's POV_**

Someone or something grabbed my arm, I turned and gasped as a sweet-smelling cloth was shoved over my mouth. I heard a shout and the last thing I saw before collasping was clear, blue eyes.

**_Bruce's POV_**

I had sat, stunned, as my two best friends insulted my newest friend. Jack turned and walked away, seemingly brushing off Rachel and Harvey's laughter. But I couldn't, I rounded on my friends.

"Rachel! Harvey! Why... why would you say something like that to Jack? What has he EVER done to you? Is it the scars?" I shouted at them, I have never shouted at them. We were always laughing together, usually at other people. Am I really that cruel? They were as shocked as I was, Harvey asked,

"What do you mean? It's the Joker! You always told us to laugh, he's so funny-looking! Yes, it's the scars, it's the green hair, the clothes! We're just following your lead, Bruce! And anyways, it's true, how would the Joker get a role on our show? Jim would never hire him based on first impressions!" I glared at him,

"JACK could easily get a job on the show! I bet he could even get yours! He's a superb actor with a photographic memory! He's not like you, having to read the script seventeen times before you can remember page one!" That was an exaggeration, Harvey was smart, so were Rachel and I, but nothing compared to Jack. Rachel angrily stood up for her boyfriend,

"BRUCE! Harvey is intelligent too! And what he's saying is true! You always were the leader when we laugh at the lower class kids! It's just something we rich people do! Especially the weird ones! It comes with the turf!" I don't know if I've ever been this angry before, and the worst part is, it is true that I'm the ringleader. What have I been doing with my life? I need to apologise to Jack, for real, for everything I done to him over the years.

"I have to find him!" I flung my backpack to the ground and raced across the lawn towards where Jack had disappeared to. How is someone with fractured ribs and a sprained ankle so quick? I was about 200 yards behind him when I saw four figures in black surround him.

What are they doing to him? I saw him pass out into one of the hulking figure's arms, and I shouted at them. A smaller figure noticed me and hurriedly motioned towards a big white van. They all hustled inside and it pulled away. I reached the scene of the crime and, gasping for breath, chased after the departing get-away car. It was too late, Jack was gone, in the hands of some insane kidnappers.

I need to call someone, 911! I pulled out my iphone, a present from Lucius from last Christmas. I dialed the three digits and pressed it to my ear. A girly voice trilled from the speakers,

"Welcome to 911, what's your emergency?" Oh god, a giggly, bubbly, sunshine girl. Most of my fangirls are like that. I cleared my throat and said,

"My friend, a van just pulled up and some guys in black suits grabbed him and took him with them." I bet they don't get many cases like this.

"Okay, calm down, do you have any idea who these guys were, um, what was your name?" Ah, slip the necessary question in with another one. I replied,

"Wayne, Bruce Wayne. I've never seen these people before. Please help, they took Jack!" A giggle came from the other end of the line, I was right, she is a fangirl.

"Oh wow, Bruce Wayne! The Bruce Wayne? Oh, this is such an honor! I never thought I could talk with you, I'm a huge fan, I even have a life-size plushie of you as Batman!" I should have given a fake name, the more she rambles about me, the farther away Jack gets.

"Shut up! This is a serious situation, you're the worst fan ever if you can't help me when my friend gets kidnapped! And you obviously failed at your job, emergency dispatch is just a cover for the Bruce Wayne Fan Club, I suppose?" That was harsh, but I'm worried, dammit! She shut up, and replied, rather tearfully,

"Yes, sir. Where did the kidnapping occur?" That's more like it!

"Gotham High, our school. About five minutes ago, white van, no license plates." That's all I could remember, no photographic memory at my disposal.

"I'll send a squad car down immediately, they will need to question you, and I'll send out the all-state missing person alert." The girl on other end hung up. That's a first, a girl hanging up on me. I sat down on a bench in front of the school and waited for the cops.

**_Joker's POV_**

I groaned, drowsily, and attempted to rub my eyes, but was stopped by the handcuffs on my wrists. My arms were forced at an awkward angle behind my back, connected to the chair I was haphazardly placed in. I started with a jolt and began struggling, trying to free my hands and ankles that I'd only just noticed were also cuffed to the chair.

"Sleeping Beauty awakes." I raised my head and stared into a face I'd never thought I'd see again.

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A/N: I love cliffies. Hehe. My puppy got groomed today and she seems to be three times smaller then yesterday. 3 lbs is super tiny, right? All my dogs got groomed, I have 3, Penny, Popcicles, and Precious, Pen-Pen is my little one. Do any of you guys have a dog/dogs? Besides Shorty, Akii.

P.S. Get Well Soon, Crimson! I hope the hospital has not damaged your valuble talent for reviews!


	14. Inner Bruce Busts Out

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel,

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs. I do not own Death Note. I don't own Forest Gump. I do not own Toyota. I do own a Sienna. And a friend by that name, and I'm hers, there's nothing gay about it in our eyes. -sings-  
I don't own Akeelah and the Bee. I do not own the song, I Wish I Was Queer. I do noty own Ellen Degeneres, George Takei, and Lily Tomlin. I do not own Psych.

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A/N: 69 REVIEWS!! (total) I love that number! Next I'm going to shoot for... -drumroll- ONE HUNDRED!! I know you guys can do it! 31 left! My news: First Week Activities Score: 2/2 volleyball games! Winners! And... I was the server from 11 points to 21 (game point)! I won the game with serving! My teammates helped a lot too. It was awesome, nerds against preps and we beat the preps! NEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRD POWWEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRR!!

So, my lovely band of faithful, beautiful, wonderful minions. Help me achieve my goal of one hundred reviews. I'll be very happy -bats eyelashes- LOVE YOU, GUYS!!

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**Why So Serious?  
**_"Oh please, Batman. If you had the guts for that type of fun, you would've done it years ago. I, on the other hand..."_ **-Joker, Return of The Joker**

**_Joker's POV_**

"Sleeping Beauty awakes." I raised my head and stared into a face I'd never thought I'd see again. I burst out laughing,

"You always did have a flare for the dramatics... Harley." She smiled and sat on my knee. Harley was my friend when my parents died, even though she is four years older then me. She always was one smart cookie. We were best friends, but after she got into high school, we lost contact. Her full name is Harleen Quinzel, but I call her Harley Quinn, a pretty good pun, and she calls me pet names, like Puddin' and Mistah J.

We're like siblings, only closer. We have never been in love, but I think she had a crush on me for a while. But she was dating some other guy, Jason Todd, I think, last time I heard from her.

"It's a talent, Puddin'. I got you away with only one eyewitness! From a campus, during school, it must be a record!" There was a witness? Oh no. And one more important question.

"What's with the handcuffs? My wrists are going numb." Harley laughed, and snuggled closer, her arms snaking around my neck.

"You know I love you in chains, Mistah J." With a kiss to my cheek, she bounced off my lap and over to a desk, littered with papers and writing utensils. Wait a second, I thought back to the newspaper that I had been reading.

"You're a reporter, Harley? What do you need with me? And can you take these cuffs off, they hurt like hell." A henchman-for-rent, his pocket said Buster, walked over and released me from my... bondage situation. Harley picked a pen and a pad of paper, then plopped down in a coushy, office chair, spinning around as she sat. I sat down across from her in an equally comfy chair, but not spin-able. I rubbed my wrists as she continued,

"I want an interview... from John Napier, about Batman. As soon as I heard that name, I knew you were involved, though it was a little disturbing to hear it. You haven't been John Napier since--"

"Yeah, I know, it wasn't my fault! Old Man Pennyworth told a mob of reporters that my name was John Napier. You don't think he... knows about... **IT**, right? " I whispered, aware of the burning eyes (and ears) of Harley's henchmen. She laughed again,

"You can talk freely in front of them, they all know. And, he couldn't know about it. Everyone involved is either dead, in prison, or in this room." I shook my head,

"Yesterday, I met not only the Lieutenant, but Scarecrow." Harley gasped, and then leapt from her seat.

"Scarecrow? I thought.. I thought he was in jail!"

"So did I." She sat back down, and fidgeted, slightly.

"Oh." That single syllable seemed to echo as the room fell silent.

**_Bruce's POV_**

I patted my fingers against my leg, my way of keeping time, a nervous habit I started when I was younger. There was a movie, Akeelah and the Bee, where the main star did this too. I was inwardly freaking out, but I wonder, why do I care so much? If Harvey, Rachel, Alfred, Jim, any of my many friends got kidnapped, I would worry, but I wouldn't be this worried. They can take care of themselves, we have Tae Kwon Do together every Saturday morning, to keep us fit and nimble.

But Jack, Jack can't, he's injured, and as far I know has little physical strength, and he's so short, too. When we get him back, I'm personally going to force him into joining us. I'll kidnap him myself, if need be. Why am I fretting? This is a lover's job, Jack's girlfriend (boyfriend?) should be doing this.

I know nothing about him, really, I want to know more, I have to know more. Otherwise, Stage Two: Seduction, will never be complete. I really need to think of a new word, it sounds like I wanna seduce him. People might actually think I'm gay. It's laughable, so what if I have never had a girlfriend, I will someday! I'm just a late bloomer!

I wonder what it's like to be a homosexual. What's that song, uh, I Wish I Was Queer, So I Could Get Chicks. There's a line... "I'm not queer, I'm too ugly." Just because I'm handsome, does that make me gay? Let's run a test.

Name one gay color: Lavender

Name three famous gay people: Ellen Degeneres, George Takei, and Lily Tomlin.

First love: Remains to be seen.

Do you have strong feelings for the opposite sex: At the moment, no. But there's something about Jack. I don't think it's love, wait, what am I saying, of course it's not love.

Roar. Inner Bruce Gay. Roar.

...Traitor... my own mind thinks I'm gay.

The squad car pulled up.

**_Joker's POV_**

After giving Harley the basics, I'm not part of the show, I refused, la de da, etc, and catching up on what we've missed. I realised I should tell someone about my life, other than Harley, who was there for most of the time. Otherwise, my story, the people who most likely will murder me before graduation, and people I treasure will get lost in the sands of time.

Bruce Wayne. He's the only person I can tell. He already knows more than most people, and he has so much power. I think I can trust him.

"I want to go home." Harley looked surprised, and a little hurt.

"Okay, Puddin', can I give you a ride?" I nodded and stood up, stretching slightly, before following Buster and Harley out the door. The other guards stayed behind, protecting her office. Buster spoke for the first time,

"Miss Quinzel, we have to take a different car, the eyewitness definitely saw the van. Should we take the mustang or the jeep?" Mustang! Mustang!

"Jeep." she replied, coldly, and lead the way to the little, green car. I think I hurt her feelings, wanting to leave so suddenly.

"Harley, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I just realised I have a matter of life and death to attend to. Maybe mine, maybe even yours. Okay, Har?" She nodded and hopped in the back, I joined her. Buster was our driver, the ride was made in silence, evidently, Harley was still a little sore.

"We're here. Get out." Yup, still sore.

When I made my way up to my landing, a suprise rested in the starwell.

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A/N: Tada! Review and Remember ONE HUNDRED!! Oh, and I loved George Takei in Psych, GET ME MY BLUEBERRIES, I CAN TASTE THE DIFFERENCE!!


	15. Two Can Be As Bad As One

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel,

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs. I do not own Death Note. I don't own Forest Gump. I do not own Toyota. I do own a Sienna. And a friend by that name, and I'm hers, there's nothing gay about it in our eyes. -sings-  
I don't own Akeelah and the Bee. I do not own the song, I Wish I Was Queer. I do noty own Ellen Degeneres, George Takei, and Lily Tomlin. I don't own Psych.

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A/N: Hello, my wonderfully loyal friends. I almost fainted when I saw my total number of reviews had gone from 69 to 82. So I'll answer some, a special thing, I only do when I'm super happy.

**To: XxMechanical.JellyfishxX,** I would accept your proposal, I really would, but as stated, my heart belongs to the love of my life, Akito, lol. We shall just have to be friends, email or pm me! Psych rocks. Scrubs rocks. I'm addicted to cliffhangers. I apologise. It's an unbreakable habit.

**To: Akito**, You sound like Beyond Birthday. STRAWBERRY JAMZ!! Harvey is "intellegant" he just doesn't know it yet XP "Sexual harassment..." -giggle-

**To: JesseDevil666**, -proudly accepts my Golden Monkey Award- You should make a C2 award for Golden Monkeys. We fanfiction writers are whores for attention, you know that, right?

**To: All my other faithful fans**, I LOVE YOU!! Keep reviewing! ONE HUNDRED!!

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**Why So Serious?**  
_"Madness is the emergency exit. You can just step outside, and close the door on all those dreadful things that happened. You can lock them away... forever."_  
**-Joker, Batman: The Killing Joke**

**_Joker's POV_**

When I made my way up to my landing, a suprise rested in the starwell. Dr. Jonathan Crane stood from his seat on the top step. A smug smile was firmly planted on his cruel face.

"Hello Jack, or are you going by John Napier again?" Scarecrow. I glared at him, he knows I hate him, and I always will. I'm usually against the death penalty, but for him I would make an exception.

"I only went with that name when I was with you. I was born Jack Oker, and I'll stay that way. John is history." He laughed, an awful sound, and it echoed in the shadowy darkness of the staircase. I shivered, that laugh still makes me shiver, even after all these years.

"You always were rebellious, Jack, I see you haven't lost your spark. I'm glad." Scarecrow walked towards me, descending the stairs. He was between my apartment and me, and he knew it, too. This was a man totally fueled by evil, a real madman.

"How did you find me here? Only a handful of people know it, and none of them trust you." I was basically backed into a corner. The only way out was back down the stairs, but he could have accomplices. It's smarter, not safer, but smarter, to stay put.

"Guy Kopski. One of dear Harleen's henchman, he was the room with you both during your "interview". After you left, he sent me directions here, I was in the area and decided to... drop in for a "nice, little chat". Don't worry, Harley is blissfully unaware, for now." Damn him, he went after Harley, I have to warn her before it's too late.

"Leave her alone, it's me you want, I'm always the one you're after. I won't help you with any more "projects", those days are over. I can't do it again." He smiled and moved even closer.

"Jack, Jack, my dear boy, must you be so disagreeable? I came to politely ask for your assisstance. Nothing too harmful, right? But if you're going to misbehave like this, I'll need some... forceful persuasion. Tsk. Tsk." Once again, an cloth was slapped over my mouth and once again I passed out. How often is kidnapping gonna happen to me?

"Take him to the lab. He'll work with us, he always does in the end."

**_Bruce's POV_**

"It was a WHITE van, NO LICENSE PLATES! How many times do I have to tell you? I didn't notice anything else." I was yelling by now. The detective had questioned me about the getaway car for at least ten times this hour. Julie Madison, my attorney, sighed and rearranged some papers, trying to give the affect of being proficient.

"Please, Bruce, are you sure there's nothing else." I nodded, slumping in my seat. The door banged open as some nameless assisstant ran in.

"Sir, Sir, this tape just came in for the missing persons case. It's the security footage from the hidden camera in the stairwell of the victim's apartment complex for the past two hours! It shows a kidnapping!" The detective wrenched the tape out of the assisstant's hands and shoved it into the VCR in the interrogation room. When screen was turned on, startling images showed.

"This is from the past two hours?" The detective roared at the scared helper, who nodded frantically. One question ran through all our heads, but I was the only person who voiced it.

"How the hell does someone get kidnapped twice in two hours?"

* * *

A/N: I deeply apologise for the shortness. I'm being pried from the keyboard because I have an Obama rally to go to tomorrow. Yes, I vote Obama. I don't care if you vote McCain, it's your choice, maybe he appeals to you. I just prefer Barack Obama, if anything, he's a great public speaker and can easily inspire hope in the hopeless. I merely believe our country needs that right now in these horrible times. I was raised on bargain prices, so the failing economy hasn't hurt me nearly as badly as it has hurt others. But I do empathize with my fellow Americans whose quality of life is going down the drain.

**Peace Out.**


	16. Todd, Jason Todd

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel,

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs. I do not own Death Note. I don't own Forest Gump. I do not own Toyota. I do own a Sienna. And a friend by that name, and I'm hers, there's nothing gay about it in our eyes. -sings-  
I don't own Akeelah and the Bee. I do not own the song, I Wish I Was Queer. I do noty own Ellen Degeneres, George Takei, and Lily Tomlin. I don't own Psych.

* * *

A/N: I HAD A BLAST AT THE OBAMA RALLY! It wasn't really a rally, it turned into a parade. My newly formed band, The Obama Heads, known for the big Obama face stickers on our foreheads, performed for our group of supporters and random people on the street. We threw candy, and lead alpacas, llamas, and dogs in our "Bark For Barack", "Llamas for Obama" and "Alpacas for Baracka" march. It was so much fun, I wish you all could have seen it. And then Izzy, Sach, and I (the band members) posed with a giant Barack Obama cardboard cutout. My band and I did our favorite numbers, John McCain is Coming to Town, and Obamalicious, written by all of us in the space of half an hour. PM me if you want the lyrics.

How many of you guys have **hippotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia?** I came across this phobia in my textbook. I'll give you a hint, it's incredibly ironic.

I finally planned out this story, I've been winging it so far, and that seems to satisfy all of you. This story will run for a few more chapters and then... **A SEQUEL!!** Muahahaa.

* * *

**Why So Serious?**  
_"Tell me what's on your so-called mind..."_  
**-Joker, Something or Other**

**_Bruce's POV_**

"How the hell does someone get kidnapped twice in two hours?" We watched the video again, puzzling over the kidnapping. As I watched I looked for clues, I bet the others were too, I noticed something near the end.

"Black hair, glasses." The detective spoke before I did, good, I feel smart now, too. When we watched it again, I gasped.

"That's Jonny!" Cracks echoed the room as all the necks of my companions swung around to face me. Ouchies. That must have hurt.

"Who's Jonny? Tell me, Wayne, if you want your pal to come home safely." Oh, is that a THREAT?

Roar. Shut Up. Roar.

YOU shut up, Inner Bruce!

"Jonny or really... Dr. Jonathan Crane, he's a scriptwriter for Batman. But Jack seemed to have known him longer than I have. They met yesterday, before the fire. Jack didn't... doesn't like him, in fact, I'd say he loathes Jonny. Come to think of it, I have no idea how they know each other, or even why." The room went dead silent at the mention of the name "Dr. Jonathan Crane", I guess they know him too?

"Wayne, about seven or eight years ago, Dr. Crane was supposedly involved in a testing lab that experimented on humans. It was financed by the mob, but when it was uncovered, all evidence of their involvment went up in smoke, literally. Someone blew up the lab, the perp is still at large. When the lab exploded, anything we might have used to prove the human testing lab existed disappeared. So Dr. Crane went free, lack of evidence." The detective spoke, wow, that's the most he's said all day.

A human testing lab, but, how could Jack be involved with that? Julie nodded, then a lightbulb seemed to appear over her head.

"Didn't Crane have a foster kid? The kid was taken into state care, Arkham Orphanage, I think, and Crane never petitioned to get him back." The same lightbulb clicked my head, too. Didn't Jack say something like that once? I know he did, what was it...?

_"He was one of the cops that picked me up after my parents died. And he also picked me up when my foster family situation blew up, literally."_

Or something like that. I blurted out, unable to stop myself,

"Jack was in foster care, he told me." I got a couple of 'duh' looks from the room's occupants. The nameless assisstant ran out again, presumably to keep running errands, what a boring job.

"So, if we assume Jack is the foster kid, that gives us a motive for the kidnapping. It might mean foul play, too. Where could they be?"

After Julie stated her question, the went even more silent than the last silence. How is that possible? Quiet is quiet, why should there be degrees of muteness? Oh well. The detective spoke up,

"I could get in trouble for telling you guys this, but the kid who was Dr. Crane's foster child was named John Napier. He was a criminal genius, he'd be about 25, if he had survived that bombing, which he didn't. So that rules out Jack Oker, I'm sorry."

I stood up, I can't take this much longer, I miss my Jack... I mean Jack, my... friend. That was weird. I stretched a little, those interrogation chairs are uncomfortable. Oh yeah, speak Brucie, speak.

"May I leave, Detective... what did you say your name was?" He stood, too, holding out a hand.

"Todd. Detective Jason Todd." I shook his hand and walked out the door, out of the police station, and out into the world. I broke into a run as soon as I disappeared around the corner. Aha! There's my baby!

I hopped into my Lamborghini, and turned on the GPS. Here I come, Jack!

**_Jack's POV_**

I awoke in replica of a room I hoped never to see again. The Lab. That short and simple name could never tell of the horrors that occurred there. It was a crime against nature that this place even existed. I was lying on a table in the corner, ouch, that's not good for my back. I sat up and glanced around the windowless room, it more or less the same as the original Lab, a few things were switched around, but hey, not everyone has a photographic memory.

"Hello, Jack." A voice rang out over the intercom positioned above the door. Scarecrow.

"Why have you rebuilt The Lab, Scarecrow? I told you, I won't help you, you'll have to kill me first." I glared at where the "hidden" camera had been in the first Lab. Dr. Crane chuckled.

"I see your memory is as perfect as ever. I trained you well, you were my greatest success."

"Yeah, but I was also your worst failure. Even Mommy and Daddy think you're pathetic. Where am I?" I smirked, a facade of courage. Master the fear. You are fear. Power.

"Oh, Jack, my boy, Mommy and Daddy would not exist if it wasn't for me. They should be grateful. But they are impudent, most people are, including you. And John Napier. As to your location, you must be noticing something, an element not included in the prototype Lab. And it is something you should know and recognize." Damn him. He is a being made of pure evil and hatred for the world. What happened to make him like this?

I took a better look around, noting tiny details and differences. Then it hit me,

"You didn't..." A red light started flashing. Alarms went off, it was DC Studios all over again.

"Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert. Activating lockdown in: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1." A female voice overrode Dr. Crane's intercom. She sounds bored, not worried at all.

All the lights went out, then there was a crack, a gunshot!

* * *

A/N: Muahaha. I love cliffies. Sorry for the slow update. Exhaustion caused by school has officially worn me out. Don't worry, I'll update, I promise. I'm just tired, that's all. My writer's block is coming back. I hit brick walls occasionally, but I know it's coming now so I prepare by bringing a sledgehammer.

Has anyone seen the episodes of Scrubs "My Friend the Doctor" or "My Manhood"? JD has some more extreme gay days than usual.

**Danni:** _-to Carla-_ I love The Fugitive, who'd you rather do? Tommy Lee Jones or Harrison Ford.

**JD:** Harrison Ford, hands down... sorry, you were probably talking to Carla. I've just been having a gay day.

**Carla:** Day?

I Love Scrubs. I had the school's version of IQ testing today. It's more like Junior SATs, for people who are not seniors, the required age at our school. Does anyone know their IQ and would like to share it? I personally don't know mine. I was tested in 3rd Grade and got 144. But I have no idea what it is now. Hopefully it's higher.

Love You Guys!!


	17. Operation: Codename BOB

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel,

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs. I do not own Death Note. I don't own Forest Gump. I do not own Toyota. I do own a Sienna. And a friend by that name, and I'm hers, there's nothing gay about it in our eyes. -sings-  
I don't own Akeelah and the Bee. I do not own the song, I Wish I Was Queer. I do noty own Ellen Degeneres, George Takei, and Lily Tomlin. I don't own Psych.

* * *

A/N: I'm SO sorry, I was planning on updating on Thursday, but my schedule was stuffed.

Thursday: 4 essays, 5 pages of vocab, vocab sentences, 30 math problems, 3 pages of metric to english and vice versa conversions 7 hours of homework with breaks every 1/2 hour. I was so exhausted. My Language teacher gave us a ton of work because he had to have that much covered by Friday, or so he told us. On Friday, he said "Oh, I didn't mention this? You don't need it now, turn it in Monday or Tuesday. I blew up, on the inside, he totally pissed me off.

Friday: Some mentally ill kid at my kid sister's new school attacked her. Jumped her, grabbed her hair, and started kicking her in the spine. Teacher ignored it, the bastard.

Saturday: Renewing old friendships in Minnesota (I hate the drive there, worth it once I arrive, but it is a long and boring ride), shopping with Mother until evening, talking with Akito until Midnight. No free time whatsoever. Plus, we went to the library about an hour away, grabbed a handful of movies (I got The Fugitive, I agree with JD, Harrison Ford, hands down. Woof.) And I went down to the basement exhibits, an amateur CSI thingy put together by the police. I got zipped in a body bag and peformed a virtual autopsy. I'm really into noticing details, so I tried Crime Scene 1 of 2 and scored 100 percent on the debriefing. Yay me. Maybe I should stop dreaming of being a lawyer and start a career path towards being a detective? Hmm... NAH! I'm not cut out to be a cop.

Sunday: My internet was broken. I wrote this chapter though.

One more thing. MORE THAN 100 REVIEWS!! WOOT! And I was my 100th reviewer.

I LOVE YOU ALL!! (My birthday is on Friday, the 19th, does anyone have a present for me? :D )

* * *

**Why So Serious?  
**_"Parting is such sweet sorrow, dearest. Still, you can't say we didn't show you a good time. Enjoy yourself out there... in the asylum. Just don't forget -- if it ever gets too tough... there's always a place for you here"_  
**-Joker, Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth (best Batman book ever!!) (in my opinion)**

**_Joker's POV_**

All the lights went out, then there was a crack, a gunshot! I scrambled behind the table I had originally been lying on, and took cover. More gunshots echoed the concrete Lab, bouncing around and around like echolocation. They were shooting at the door!

BANG, the door to The Lab fell to floor with a crash as two people burst in.

"Heya, Kid."

"Puddin'!!" The Lieutenant and Harley? Here to save widdle ol' me? I'm touched. I stood, shakily, and followed Lt. Gordon's flashlight. "We gotta scram, hurry, Mistah J!" They turned heel and ran, I tore after them, hoping against hope for no more shoot offs. I wasn't so lucky.

Another gunshot rang out from behind us, then another, Scarecrow's henchmen knew I was escaping. Damnit. Another bullet was fired and a searing pain flared up as my side seemed to explode. I was hit! I couldn't stop to check the wound, I kept running, but my speed was getting slower and slower.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around my midriff, dragging me off in a different direction. Harley and the Lieutenant turned the corner and disappeared from my view. Struggling, I began fighting my capter, but the pain in my side increased and I saw little cartoon birds. Is that Tweetie? I tawt I taw a puddy tat!

"Stop moving, goddamnit, it's too hard to carry you like this." My kidnapper threw me over his shoulder, and took off running. I was not lucid enough to keep struggling. Black spots appeared, replacing the birdies, and I blacked out.

**_Inner Bruce's POV_**

I'm sure most of you remember me. I am the little voice in Bruce Wayne's head who attempts to point out when Brucie makes a revelation or has an epiphany. Or if I just feel like making fun of him. Most people would call me a conscience, but I prefer to think of myself as "The Voice of Reason". Of course, Bruce is so stupid most of the time, I have to dumb down whatever I say.

Roar. Inner Bruce Smart. Outer Bruce Dumb. Roar.

Etc. Etc. You get the point. Now, I recently realised I was gay. I have no problems admitting it, as a "conscience", I'm used to startling news about myself. No, my problem was getting Bruce, or as I like to call him, Bob (Bossy Outer Bastard), to notice that he was gay, too. You can see my dilemma, he really is unexperienced in the ways of love. So I called in a favor with Cupid, so to speak.

Checking out the people Bruce interacts with was the easy part, none of his "friends" would do, no fanboys either. No, I needed someone who really disliked Brucie, that was the challenge. But, lo and behold, I saw Jack. A disagreement, bullying, years of pent-up rage, all easy things to reverse, hate to love, you know. So I started dropping hints in Bruce's mind, Jack's butt is cute, you need to worry about his scars. It turned out I didn't even need to, Bruce became attracted to Jack without my help. I was so proud of him.

Then I realised, Bruce will never admit he's gay unless he actually believes it. Damn. I thought we had finally started moving in the right direction. But I was wrong. So what now?

Operation: Codename: BOB.

I was going to get Bruce and Jack together if it was the last thing I ever did. As luck would have it, my two targets were partnered up for Tech Ed. Perfect. During their time together, I subtly put thoughts into Bruce's brain, building the attraction higher and higher. Of course, the fire at DC was counter-productive, but at least it spurred Bob into chasing Jack home and giving him flowers. That would raise Jack's opinion, right? And I gave Bruce the idea for Mission: Sexy, under the embrella operation of BOB, of course.

When Jack was kidnapped, twice, I knew the quickest way to get these two in bed together was Brucie being the savior. I was the one who got most of the IQ points between Bob and I. Man, I thank God everyday for that.

It wasn't hard to figure out Jack's location, even Bruce figured it out eventually. Do you know where he is? C'mon, give it a try. What could it hurt?

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry for the short length of this chapter. My mother has decided that I need to clean the house, not my sister, not her. But to relieve her stress, I have to clean. And Dad is supposed to do the laundry.

I was voted onto STUDENT COUNCIL!! WOO! I'm in! And so are Rannie and Rex, my friendzies from Science Club. My teammates. When I moved here, Rex was the person to say hello to me. He was in the office getting a camera for Mrs. D. And he was all like "Hey, you're the new girl, right? I'm in Mrs. D's class, she's the best, I hope you're in our class." And I'm like, YAY, I want Mrs. D! Of course, I got Mrs. L and never saw Rex again that year, but I saw him after that.

He's a nice guy, we were in Mrs. YB's summer school theater class together with Akito and he was cast as Julia Childs. So he donned a grey granny-wig and his grandmother's dress, and gave a better performance than the rest of us, even though he had never cross dressed before. The preps at school, who he's friends with anyway, called him a girl for a long time. I was Tina, the sarcastic genius who cracks jokes during the whole skit at other's expense. It was great. -ten zillion flashbacks occur-

So that's one of my stories about my friends. I have nice friends. I love you, Akito and Izzy. Rex and Rannie, sorry, I don't love you guys like that. But you're my friends.

And I love you guys, my loyal fans, for reading this and supporting me through the good and the bad times. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!

**Eno**


	18. Knight in Shining Armor

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: M, for safety's sake.

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel,

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs. I do not own Death Note. I don't own Forest Gump. I do not own Toyota. I do own a Sienna. And a friend by that name, and I'm hers, there's nothing gay about it in our eyes. -sings-  
I don't own Akeelah and the Bee. I do not own the song, I Wish I Was Queer. I do noty own Ellen Degeneres, George Takei, and Lily Tomlin. I don't own Psych.

* * *

A/N: I can't tell you how sorry I am for leaving you all alone. I can tell you my excuses though. It's Homecoming week, I had my birthday, my birthday party, and my birthday weekend, I had student council meetings, I had to sell raffle tickets for the science club, and last but certainly not least... I'm sick. -coughgaspdies- It sucks.

But I had a great, but weird, birthday. I watched Pay It Forward with my friends, made pineapple upside down cake (**DELISH**) and made two kinds of pizza: Pineapple Mountain, a 3-cheese, 5-layer pineapple pizza and beer bottle pepperoni, known for it's odd vodka-bottle shape and it's yummy yummy crust. Tada!

I'm writing another fic, probably a oneshot, for the movie **_Pay It Forward_**, which if you haven't seen it, see it. Haley Joel Osment and Kevin Spacey and Helen Hunt. I almost cried when I saw it, which is odd in itself, because I don't cry, I never have reason to.

New Phobia For You Guys: _**Arachibutyrophobia**._ Do you have it?

But here, chapter 18. I'm giving you what you deserve. Love you guys. **Hakuna Matata**.

**Dedication**: Yes, this whole story is dedicated to Akito. But I want to make a special note here.

Akito, I know life has thrown you a lot of curveballs, more then most people ever see in an entire lifetime. But you're overcoming them, I probably couldn't do it, even with all my optimistic, "Silver Lining" stuff. I'm proud of you, Akii, you're a strong girl, and a good person. After all, I should know, we're like sisters, only closer.

**Keep Living**, don't let life get you down. I hope this chapter makes you smile. (Actually, it probably won't until near the end)

_**YOU GO GIRL**!_

* * *

**Why So Serious?**  
_"Quick question. When the clock strikes twelve, do I get a little kiss?"_  
**-Joker, Batman: The Long Halloween**

**_Joker's POV_**

Black spots appeared, replacing the birdies, and I blacked out.

When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was the darkness. The lights still weren't on? Damn. I don't like being alone in the dark. When it's dark, it's quiet, and when it's quiet, it's scary.

"Are you awake, Jack?" AAAAHHHHH! Holy shit, that scared me! Wait...

"Bruce? What are you doing here? Where is here for that matter?" I sat up and looked around, squinting to make out any movement. But it was too dark, I couldn't find him.

"Call me a knight in shining armor, here to save the damsel in distress." Grr. He did NOT just call me a girl. Oh, I'm gonna kill him. Later, Jack, later. When he least expects it, stab him in the back. **Muahahaa**. Ow, that hurt my side.

"You still didn't answer my question, where are we?" He laughed awkwardly.

"I'm not sure. I kind of just ran the opposite way of the gunfire. Um, how's your... wound?" Painful as **hell.** Burning like **fire.**

"Fine. I was only grazed. You don't know where we are?" He laughed again, sounding nervous.

"I know _where_ we are, I just don't know where we are. We're inside Arkham Orphanage, or as it used to be called, Arkham Asylum. I was taken here once, when I was nine, for an evaluation, because of Mom and Dad's deaths." I heard him move, and turned to my left, where the sound came from. Bingo. Nine o'clock. Target sighted... sort of.

"And I remembered something, the doctor who evaluated me, his name was Jonathan Crane. And there was something else. I saw you there, I'm sure of it, you were in one of the cells, but you didn't have your scars. That's why I didn't remember until now. You were only seven or eight, and Alfred asked why you were in there, but Dr. Crane said it was confidential."

I sighed, and ran my hand through my hair. I never wanted to share this story with anyone, but Bruce had proved himself worthy of my trust. He's here, with me, at risk to his own personal safety, right?

"Do you want to know the truth? Can you handle the truth?" I wrapped my arms around myself, clutching my GSW. Oww.

"Yes. Please tell me, Jack, I want to help you, please let me help you." Aww, how can I say no to that.

"Okay. Here goes. When my parents were killed, I went to Arkham for an evaluation, too. Scarecrow, or as he was better known, Dr. Crane, was my evaluator. He ran so many tests, ink blots, word association, Intelligence Quotient, etc. When he discovered I had a photographic memory, and a genius IQ of over 200, he lied. He said I was insane, but it was treatable, shock and loss had made me mentally-ill. He got custody from the state."

Bruce shifted little closer, inching along the wall towards me.

"He began teaching me about the life of crime. Because of my memory and IQ level, it took me a few days to pick up skills that took real criminals years to perfect. I could pick locks, drive a car, pickpocket, and use almost any kind of weapon. My hand-to-hand has always sucked. I don't have the build for it, I never will. Anyways, to Scarecrow, the most crucial skill I picked up was chemistry. I learned how to make poisons, viruses, acids, Shirley Temples, and chocolate milk. The most important skills, he called them."

I laughed, sadly and quietly, almost ready to cry.

"Dr. Crane came up with a new idea for a formula to dissolve the mental workings of the human psyche. If it came in contact with skin or was inhaled, his hypothesis was that people's brain would cease to function, leaving them a living, but empty, body, perfect for experimentation. I had been with him for 7 months when he believed he had perfected it. I was locked in The Lab, by myself, for 5 months. Once a week, Scarecrow would come in, refill my refridgerator, and check my progress. What he didn't know was that I was not working on his "_Fear Toxin_", but rather on an escape plan. I'd been with him a year, I didn't want to stay any longer, I couldn't."

Tears silently began pouring down my face, but amazingly, my voice remained steady.

"The Lab was just what the name implies, a scientific lab devoted to creating new chemicals. But it was a horrible place. I can't even begin to tell you how terrible it was. Cold, dark, quiet, it was a huge place. And I was the only one there. I began talking to myself, just to know I still existed. My plan was to destory everyone of the formulas that had taken Dr. Crane years to create. I wouldn't let him hurt anymore people. But I made a mistake. It was my eighth birthday. I was trying to make a present for myself, no one had stopped to refill my fridge that week, and I was dehydrated and slowly starving. I tried to mix something up, pineapple-flavored juice. I added the wrong ingredient, a chemical I had been working on, _Smilex_, that was a highly-flammable hallucinogen."

I couldn't stop crying, I had never told anyone about this, not even Harley. But my story needs to be passed on, otherwise Dr. Crane will be at large for eternity. I can't let that happen, not when people are probably dying because of what I created.

"When I drank it, I changed, mentally, physically, even emotionally. My hair turned green, my skin, already pale from lack of sun, turned even whiter, and I looked like I was wearing lipstick. That last part was kind of embarrassing, more so than the others, anyway. The biggest change was my personality, or should I say, personalities. It wasn't just me in my head, there were 3 others in there with me. Mommy, Daddy, and John Napier. Mommy and Daddy were the lessers of 2 evils. They were sort of a comfort at times, but mostly they told me to kill, maim, destroy, etc. They could never take over though, I was the dominant personality to them."

An arm was wrapping itself around my shoulders, and my face was pressed into Bruce's chest. I did a bit of deep breathing exercises so I could continue. My voice came out a little muffled.

"John was different, he didn't ask me to do things, if he wanted something done, he did it. He told Scarecrow about my plans to destroy The Lab, so I was locked in a cell in Arkham until I would cooperate. For 3 months I battled with John, never saying a word out loud, but internally, it was war. I beat him, but the damage was done. I would never be the same, I was mentally scarred for life. However, because I had beaten John, I was in control of my life. I busted out of Arkham, and I returned to The Lab, to finish what I had started."

I started laughing, I think I'm hyperventillating. **Ha Ha.**

"I blew it up. The whole building. And I called the police, told them what they needed to know, and kept the rest secret. I used a computer at The Lab before it exploded to change the government's files on me. Dr. Crane had fostered a boy named John Napier, who had turned 25 two weeks ago. I had been in an orphanage for the past year and a half. There was no trace of a connection between us. John Napier died in the explosion. The only person who knew I was the real foster child of Scarecrow was Lt. Gordon. He swore he would never tell anyone, and he helped me get the apartment I have now. The state provided for me until about 2 years ago, when I turned 13. And that's my life story, interesting, ain't it?"

**_Bruce's POV_**

Wow. It sounds like something out of a horror movie. I do still have a couple questions, but I won't ask now. I didn't even realise I hugging Joker again, until the story ended. He needs a hug, he's had a hard life.

"You're safe now, Jack. Okay? I'll be here to protect you, you hear? No one's gonna hurt you anymore." He raised his tearstained face and gave me an odd look.

"You really do make me sound like a damsel in distress. I'm not a weakling, I don't need a knight to save me, I need a friend." I nodded and hugged him closer.

Roar. Be** MORE** than a friend.** ROAR.**

Yeah. Wait, what? I can't agree with Inner Bruce, he's gay. Wait, if he's gay, what does that make me? Gay? Ahh, I'm confused. What do I feel for Jack. That's a good place to start.

Three parts to understanding feelings. **Physical, Mental, and Emotional.**

What do I think of his body. Hmm.. Cute. I can't deny it, he's definitely effeminate, but that's not what interests me. I like his hair, it's soft and ticklish. And his eyes, they're gorgeous, almost as nice as mine. They're big, and shiny, I've always had an eye for things that sparkle and glitter. What can I say? I'm rich. What else do I think about his physique.

His butt. Unbelievably adorable. I wish I had a butt like that. Mine is firm, like mutton. It comes from working out everyday, why do I keep coming back to talk about myself. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

What do I like about him mentally? He's smart, almost annoyingly so. And, I hate to admit it, he's more intelligent than I am. His heart's in the right place, he's a good person, beneath the gruff exterior. Jack sees the real me, beyond the stardom, the wealth, the good looks. He knows about my chiroptophobia, and my utter dislike for the scent of cleaning supplies.

What do I feel for him emotionally? I know I care for him, I like him. Does it go beyond that? Do I... love him? One way to find out.

"Jack... can... can I kiss you?" I didn't mean to stutter, I really didn't. What happened to confident, playboy Brucie? I miss him.

"Why?" Inner Bruce gave a girly, fangirlish squeal inside my head. Oww. I hate that sound, but Jack did sound so goddamn innocent.

"Because... I think I love you." He laughed. He fucking laughed.

That hurt me, Jack, that really cut deep. Suddenly, a pair of lips were pressed to mine. It was a clumsy kiss, I could tell he didn't have experience, maybe I was even his first kiss. That's so romantic, awww. I don't know if we kissed for a moment or a minute, but I didn't care. When we broke apart, I saw he was smiling, I know I was.

This was the real deal. I'm in love.

"How touching." A voice laughed from behind us, I hadn't even noticed the lights come on while I was kissing (making out with) Jack. We turned and gasped as a tall figure strode towards us.

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A/N: There you go. How was that? I have zero experience in romance beyond my wifey, Ren. Who I roleplay as. Kureno/Ren. Akito and I decided on that pairing because we believe Kureno was really an evil genius, hiding behind a mask of innocence. Why else would he reveal Akito's gender to Tohru? I'm my own wife. Odd, ne?

If any of you got the Scrubs reference in this chapter, say **_Eagle_** in your reviews.

This was a fun chapter to write. I've waiting so goddamn long to write the fucking kiss scene. And to tell about Jack's past. If you noticed, I didn't explain all the details. How Jack got his scars for one thing.

-evil smile-

Review, my loyal readers, review. Remember, **_EAGLE._**


	19. How To Kill The Burlap Man

**Why So Serious?**

A Batman Begins/Dark Knight fanfic

Rating: CHANGED TO T!!

Pairings: Bruce/Joker, Harvey/Rachel,

Warnings: AU, Slash, Language (Mostly mine), Hetero, Violence, High School Humor, Murder, Bullying, and Brucie!Bruce.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Bruce Wayne, the Joker, Batman, or anything else related. They belong, I believe, to DC comics and Bob Kane. I don't own The Johnson theme song, Charming Ultra, or Jan Seybold. I do own Strawberry Dream, Diana Cross, and The Diana Files. I co-own The Wannabe Russians with Akito-chan. I also own The First Annual Wayne Junior Engineering Competition of Gotham High. I don't own Scrubs. I do not own Death Note. I don't own Forest Gump. I do not own Toyota. I do own a Sienna. And a friend by that name, and I'm hers, there's nothing gay about it in our eyes. -sings-  
I don't own Akeelah and the Bee. I do not own the song, I Wish I Was Queer. I do noty own Ellen Degeneres, George Takei, and Lily Tomlin. I don't own Psych.

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A/N: I'm sorry for the wait, I promised not to update until Akito could read the ending. I have a bad habit of giving things away. -guilty smile- Here it is, people, THE LAST CHAPTER OF WHY SO SERIOUS?! Once this is done, I start the sequel -dances around nerdily- -does the robot- -does the chicken dance- -hypes it up and does Cotten Eye Joe-

I can't dance, sorry D:

**I WROTE ANOTHER FANFIC, CHECK MY ACCOUNT TO READ AND REVIEW!!** It's a Pay It Forward fanfic, like I promised, called "The Last Goodbyes of Trevor McKinney"

PLEASE REVIEW! I _NEED_ IT! I CRAVE IT! **I LOVE IT**! -blows kisses-

**Phobias of the Day**: Linonophobia, Zemmiphobia, Pteronophobia, Pogonophobia, and Porphyrophobia. Do you have them? -giggle-

**Why So Serious?**  
_"You complete me."_  
**-Joker, The Dark Knight**

**_Bruce's POV_**

"How touching." A voice laughed from behind us, I hadn't even noticed the lights come on while I was kissing (making out with) Jack. We turned and gasped as a tall figure strode towards us.

I heard Jack grit his teeth in frustration, I felt like doing that too, but I don't want to ruin my pearly white smile.

"Scarecrow." I am so gonna fire his ass when we leave. Dr. Crane thinks he can kidnap my... friend? Boyfriend? Lover? Ah, screw it.

"Jack and Bruce. I always thought it was Jack and Jill. Or maybe it's Bruce and Jack sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N-G!" Dr. Crane, or Scarecrow, is getting on my last nerve.

"Shut your piehole." I think I should have said something a little more sophisticated, because Scarecrow is laughing at me. Even Jack is hiding a smile, grr.

ROAR. KILL THE BURLAP MAN!! ROAR!!

Burlap... man? Oh, Scarecrow. Yeah. KILL HIM.

I stood up, and put myself between my Jack and the newly-named Burlap Man. No one is taking my loved ones, or rather one, from me again. I can't take that, it was hard enough when my parents died, I'm not letting my lover die too.

"Ah, Brucie Bruce, I always knew you were an idiot, I didn't know you were a brave idiot." He pushed his glasses farther up his nose, and grabbed something from his pocket. A gun! I hate guns, they are worthless killing machines that wiped out the Native Americans. And many other cultures, for that matter. I love those Native Americans, I had a Cherokee nanny, she taught me about weaving. I stunk at it, but oh, well.

Jack spoke from behind me, "Scarecrow, you don't need to do this, let Bruce go, I'll stay, okay?" Oh no, you didn't. I glared back at Dr. Crane, but replied to Jack.

"Jack, I'm staying here." He huffed,

"No, you're not. Get lost." I glowered and turned around, not showing your back to the enemy be damned.

"I will not leave you in the hands of a mass murdering psychopath to save my own life. That's what love is, you won't convince me otherwise." I put my hands on my hips and reprimanded him like my mother used to do to me.

"Just what I need, a lover's spat. Can I just kill you guys now?" Scarecrow's posture looked bored, he had pulled a burlap sack over his head while Jack and I had argued. No wonder I call him the Burlap Man.

"We'd rather you didn't, Dr. Crane. You see, it takes a lot to live and bullet wounds aren't one of them." Scarecrow laughed at me again,

"Bullets? What kind of gun do you think this is? It's a gas gun, I perfected the fear toxin, Jack, you and your boyfriend can be my first test subjects. Enjoy." He fired and a spray of toxic-green-colored vapor shot out towards us. Something was shoved over my mouth, Jack had slapped an air-filter mask over my face. It was like a pocket-sized doctor's mask with a hidden filter inside. I looked like a surgeon ready for duty.

Jack had another one strapped to his face, and what looked to be a pocket knife (I knew I felt something earlier) in his hand. How he could see was beyond me, I could barely make out where Jack was standing, he was a dark blur.

A cold blade was pressed to my throat, I froze. "Jackie boy, be a dear and drop the knife, I would hate to kill such a pretty boyfriend." Eww. Scarecrow called me pretty, his voice was a shaky falsetto. Is he high? Plus, I'm not the damsel in distress!

Jack spun around, "Scarecrow! Let him go, he isn't involved, he doesn't know anything." I beg your pardon, I know many things. Porcupines can float, September 19th is International Talk Like A Pirate Day, you know, the important facts of life.

The knife dug in slightly, I am an actor, you do NOT harm an actor's body without paying for it. Fuck him. I slammed my elbow into Scarecrow's goody parts. I started, I might as well finish, I kicked him in the nose, then stomped on his feet, and when he was lying on the ground, moaning in pain, I kicked him in the side. Revenge for Jack. Muahaha. It's a backwards SING (Side, Instep, Nasal, Groin), so rather Groin, Nasal, Instep, Side. That felt good!

I pulled off Scarecrow's mask and grabbed Jack's arm.

"We're gonna run for it! Hurry!" He stumbled a little, but soon caught up with my speedy pace. Long legs are a great advantage. I can see the door!

**_Joker's POV_**

I don't think fresh air ever felt as good as it does now. I took several deep breaths, filling my lungs with the sweet oxygen. Ahhh.

"C'Mon Jack!" I was pulled again, farther away from the former asylum. I hope there are not any kids still in there. I heard someone else scream my name, or at least, my nickname.

"PUDDIN'!!" Harley grabbed me and actually picked me up, swinging me around. When I was reconnected with the ground I laughed, nervously.

"Have you been working out, Harley?" She nodded and hugged me again. Bruce looks jealous, I might have to mess with his head now. I smiled and hugged Harlz, pretending to look content. She got my idea, and snuggled into my arms, oww, my side.

"Mistah J, it feels like you've lost weight. Wanna get some din--" Bruce interupted Harley, grabbing my wrist and pulling me into his arms.

"He's mine, girly, back off. Plus, I thought we were trying to get away from here, not stay and chat like a bunch of girls." I could see Harley was about to interject with "I am a girl, you twit.", but I don't need more fighting right now. I groaned and sank to my knees, I always was dramatic.

"Bruce, Harley, my side, it's, it's on fire, oh god, it burns." They both fell for it completely, raising me and supporting my weight between the two of them. Haha. I realised one of us was missing.

"Where's the Lieutenent, Harlz?" She laughed, sounding a little insane.

"He went to cut the phone line, power, and water. And then he was gonna call the police. He was a pretty important person a few years ago, his words will hold." Why would he cut the water line? To dehydrate the enemy? It seems stupid to me.

"Let's go, before the cops get here. I think I need to see a doctor." Bruce and Harley gave me "duh, you've been shot" looks, before aiding my attempt to walk away. I turned and had one last look at the Arkham Insane Asylum/Orphanage. Lovely name for a lovely place.

Scarecrow smiled at me from an upstairs window, and the building exploded.

**_Bruce's POV_**

We got Jack to the hospital, then Miss Quinn, or the soon to be Mrs. Todd, and I sat down to discuss the explosion. We'd heard that Jim was safe at the police station and we'd be called for questioning soon, too. Great, NOT. I just got out of the police station a few hours ago.

"Jack saw something, he looked over his shoulder. I'm surprised he didn't turn to salt, with his luck." I nodded and Harley continued, "You're his boyfriend, right. You should ask him. Speaking of your budding relationship, as his honorary sister, I think I should warn you, if you hurt him, there are a lot of people, including Gordon and I, who would kill you. Literally, I don't think you'll underestimate us, you know what we can do."

And she left, with an evil smile, to see her fiance. Now I need to see my precious someone, he got out of surgery and was sleeping off the anesthetics. He should be awake by now.

**_Joker's POV_**

I groaned, oww, my head feels like 9 on the Richter scale. I smell the awful smell of sterilization, it's especially horrible to men, if you get my drift. Even a homosexual like myself doesn't want to be sterile. Homosexual, I really am a poof, aren't I? Oh well, better a poof in love, then a straight in denial.

"Jack?" Bruce's head peered through the doorway. I smiled when I saw him, my boyfriend. Are we boyfriends? We kind of got interupted yesterday.

"Hello, Bruce. How are you doing?" He made his way over to the bed and decided to forgo the chair and lie down next to me. Mmm, he's warm.

"I'm fine, but I should be asking you if you're alright, you were shot, Jack, shot! Do you know how worried I was about you? I couldn't take losing my boyfriend like I lost my parents." I really made him worry, and he called me his boyfriend, that's a good sign, right?

"I didn't mean to worry you, Bruce, I really didn't. And you didn't lose me, I'm right here." I swallowed and continued, "Are.. we really... boyfriends? Is that what you want?"

Bruce laughed, "Duh." He wrapped me into a bear hug and I knew from now on, everything would be okay. Unless... nah.

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A/N: IT'S DONE, FINISHED, COMPLETE!! WOOT! Read the sequel to find out what the "unless" is and we still don't know how Jackie got his scars -super evil grin-

Read my new story, please. Review it. I need feedback. Please.

**REVIEW, OR I MIGHT... "FORGET" TO UPDATE XP**


	20. Sequel Notice

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********Loyal Readers**: _The first chapter of the sequel is out! The story is called:_

**Anarchy, Agent of Chaos!**

Read it, love it, review it!

**_I LOVE YOU ALL, DON'T LEAVE ME!!_**

**_Lots of love,_**

**_Kureno Sohma_**

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